Tangled Fates
by ladyschicksal
Summary: AU, eventually HouseCam. What happens if Cameron's husband survives cancer, and House marries Stacy?
1. The Interview

Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstances own House.

A/N: Oddly enough, this whole plotline came out of a dream I had. This is my first fic, so this is all pretty experimental for me. And I'm still trying to figure out all this uploading of documents thing.

* * *

CHAPTER 1

Dr. Allison Cameron walked into Princeton Plainsboro Teaching Hospital ready for her interview. Oh, she'd heard the horror stories about Dr. House, but she wasn't afraid. Nope, not at all.

While standing in front of the Dean of Medicine's office, Cameron tried wiping her sweaty palms against her black skirt. She tapped her toe, the tempo picking up as the minutes went by. A woman walked up next to her and flashed her a smile. Cameron was immediately struck by the woman's beauty. She self-consciously tucked a stray strand of hair behind her ear, jealous of the woman's straight, thick hair.

"I haven't seen you around here before, have I?" the woman asked, tucking a file under her arm. Her voice was warm and calm, which, Cameron guessed, could only be expected from someone that looked like her.

"No, I'm afraid not. I'm here for an interview," Cameron replied, returning the woman's smile. She desperately tried to ignore the slight waver in her voice.

"Do you mind if I ask with who?" The woman continued smiling, but Cameron noticed how it subtly changed. It would have been unnoticeable to most people, yet Cameron couldn't miss the sudden hint of condescension.

"Not at all. I'm interviewing with Dr. House, actually." The woman's smile grew, and the twinkle in her eye only enhanced her easy elegance.

"I'm sorry," she said. Cameron was slightly confused now, and her hands unconsciously started to tap her thighs.

"What for?"

"Haven't you heard all the horror stories?" The woman's interest in Cameron had definitely been piqued.

"Of course I have. They're kind of hard to miss." Cameron crossed her arms over her chest, trying her best to sound nonchalant.

"And they don't scare you?" The woman asked, mirroring Cameron's pose.

"No," Cameron said, shrugging.

"He'll like you, then," the woman said as the door to Dr. Cuddy's office opened.

"Dr. Cameron?" Dr. Cuddy asked. Well, Cameron assumed she was Dr. Cuddy. "Stacy? You're not giving her any insider information, are you?"

"Now, would I do that, Lisa?" Stacy said, trying her best to look innocent.

"Insider information?" Cameron asked, failing to put the pieces together.

"This is Dr. House's wife, Stacy House. She's also the hospital's lawyer."

"Oh," was all Cameron could come up with.

"Good luck, Dr. Cameron," Stacy said. She handed Dr. Cuddy a folder. "I'll need you to take a look at this whenever you can, Lisa." With a smile and a wave, she left. Cameron watched the woman go, desperately wishing that she could afford clothes like that. Oh well, no use wishing for what you couldn't have, right? Maybe she'd just lust after those shoes then…

"Dr. Cameron?" Dr. Cuddy asked. Cameron tore her gaze away from Stacy House and turned to Dr. Cuddy.

"Yes," she replied just a tad too cheerily.

"I'm Dr. Cuddy." The two shook hands. "Now, I'm going to take you up to Dr. House's office." Cuddy started walking, and Cameron had to hurry to catch up. "I'm very impressed with your resume, Dr. Cameron. We'd love to have you here at the hospital, but you have to understand that Dr. House is very difficult to work for."

"I understand that," Cameron said, following Cuddy into the elevator.

"I'm afraid you don't," Cuddy countered, smiling condescendingly at Cameron. Cameron knew Cuddy wasn't _trying _to be condescending, just like Stacy wasn't, but it frustrated her all the same. What was it about Dr. House that had everyone around him act as if they knew something she didn't? _I mean, I've heard all of the stories: the infarction, the yelling, the mocking, and the illegal activities…_ Cameron thought while she followed Cuddy out of the elevator and into the hallway. They approached Dr. House's door in silence.

"Good luck, Dr. Cameron," Cuddy said, holding open the door to Dr. House's office. "House, be nice!" she admonished the man inside. Cameron held her breath as she stepped inside. There were two men sitting there. How was she supposed to know which one was Dr. House? Then she noticed the cane. The man holding it was staring at her intently, and Cameron's breath caught in her throat when their gazes locked. He had the most magnificent blue eyes she'd ever seen. Dr. House raised an eyebrow and continued to hold her gaze.

The other man cleared his throat loudly. "I'm Dr. James Wilson," he said, standing up to shake Cameron's hand.

"Nice to meet you, I'm Dr. Allison Cameron," she said, smiling. Dr. Wilson seemed nice enough. "Dr. House, I presume?" Cameron asked, turning to the diagnostician, who still hadn't said a word. When he made no move to shake her hand, Cameron sat in the chair in front of his desk.

"I just met your wife, Stacy," she said.

"I don't have a wife," Dr. House replied, leaning back in his chair.

'Well, I'm relieved. She was just too hideous for words, and I wasn't sure what I was going to say after that." Dr. Wilson turned to Cameron, the shock he felt clearly evident in his facial expression.

"She's Wilson's wife, Dr. Cameron. You should watch what you say," Dr. House said, reaching for a baseball that was lying on his desk. Cameron's comment apparently had no affect on him.

"No, she's not," Cameron replied in a singsong voice.

"Oh? And how do you know that?" Dr. House asked, throwing his baseball up in the air. Cameron gave him a look.

"Her picture is on your desk," Cameron said, crossing her arms over her chest and leaning back in her chair. House snorted, throwing the baseball up into the air again.

"How'd you know that?" Wilson asked. "You didn't have a chance to see it."

"Well, I was bluffing, actually, but since you fell for it…" Cameron answered Wilson, but was staring at House. His lips had pursed slightly, and she would have sworn there was amusement in his eyes.

"You're hired," House announced, throwing the ball up once more.

* * *

Cameron stepped into the small apartment that she shared with her husband. She put her keys down on the kitchen counter, straining to hear any noise. There it was. _Click clickclick click clickclick._ He was typing, as usual, in the little room that passed for his office.

"Honey?" she called out, her voice little above a whisper.

"Hmm?" he replied, continuing to type.

"I got the job," Cameron said, her voice rising a little.

"That's good," he said. But he didn't turn around, or stop typing.

"We're going to have to move to Princeton." That got his attention for a second. His fingers paused above the keys before he replied.

"Okay, but you're going to have to find the place." Then he just continued to type.

"My boss seems interesting," she said, taking a step into the room. Her husband just grunted in response. "Yes. In fact, we had hot, steamy sex on top of his desk after he gave me the job."

"That's great," he said. Cameron sighed and left the room. She was just going to make dinner, read a medical journal, and then go to bed.

She and her husband had been married for ten years. Sometimes it was hard to wrap her head around that idea, but they'd married so young. At the time, though, they both thought he was dying. He'd had cancer, and they'd been so in love that it only seemed to make sense to get married. As a twenty-one year old, that made perfect sense. At thirty-one? Not so much.

But her husband had miraculously survived cancer, and after that he changed. In all fairness, so had Cameron, but the change was most pronounced in Will. He had given up the idea of becoming a lawyer and decided to follow his dream to be a novelist. At first Cameron had been more than happy to support his decision. She had become used to the idea that she would be the breadwinner. But it had been ten years, and Will had done little more than get a few short stories published. He did some freelance work for newspapers, making a little here and there, but Cameron's measly salaries had had to support both of them. Their parents gave them a little here and there, but it should be time for the two of them to be independent. Yet Will refused to get a "real job." He insisted that doing so would be detrimental to his writing.

Cameron threw a pot onto the stove, and the water sloshed over the sides. She turned on the gas, and moved toward the sink. Gripping the edge of the counter, Cameron tried to remind herself of all the reasons why she fell in love with Will in the first place. It couldn't be that hard, could it? Well, she remembered his smile, how he used to worship the ground that she walked on. She remembered making him laugh during his chemotherapy. In a way, the hardest time in both of their lives had probably been their happiest time. Now Will just seemed to think she would do whatever she could to make him happy. So far he'd been right, but she wasn't sure if she could continue like this for much longer.

It was Dr. House's fault. Not directly, of course, but when Cameron had stepped into that hospital, and felt the energy there, she knew that she was completely hooked. It wasn't as if she had never been in a hospital before; there was just something different about _this_ hospital. She knew that this was the place where she might finally get a chance to be her. While imagining the challenges she would face while working for the famous Dr. House, Cameron felt excited, alive. Reaching for the remote for the TV, hoping it would cover the sound of his typing, Cameron worried about the future of her marriage.

Maybe, just maybe, working under Dr. House would show her what she's been missing in her life: passion.


	2. The First Day

Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstances own House.

* * *

CHAPTER 2

A week later, Cameron was back at PPTH filling out paperwork and trying to find an apartment. She was standing in front of Stacy's office, waiting patiently as Stacy finished up a phone call.

"Dr. Cameron?" Stacy opened the door with a smile and waved Cameron inside. "I heard that Greg was impressed with you."

"He said that?" Cameron asked, clearly incredulous.

"Not quite," Stacy replied. "But he wouldn't have hired you otherwise. Actually it was Wilson who was impressed."

"It wasn't that long of an interview, actually," Cameron admitted, taking a seat. "I just managed to confuse Dr. Wilson a bit." Stacy smiled.

"He told me. That's the sort of thing Greg loves, though," she said. Cameron frowned, noticing the weary edge to Stacy's voice. She filed that away for later. "Anyway, I just need to go over a few things with you."

For the next twenty minutes, Stacy went over a number of hospital policies—basically, How to Avoid a Lawsuit 101—and ended with a warning.

"Just so you know, Greg will almost certainly try to get you to do something illegal. There is absolutely no doubt. Officially, I have to tell you that under no circumstances whatsoever should you comply with any orders that require breaking the law. Unofficially, though? Just be smart, and if necessary, don't get caught."

"Thanks," Cameron said. "Can I ask you a somewhat personal question?"

"Sure, but that doesn't mean I'll answer it," Stacy replied, calmly leaning forward.

"Why did you take a job that requires you to constantly stop your husband from committing illegal acts? I mean, not that he should be doing so in the first place, but I can't imagine that he takes it lying down," Cameron tried smiling to make it seem like a light-hearted remark. Stacy took a moment.

"He's really going to like you," Stacy said.

"I guess I should take that as a 'none of your business'?"

"Well, it's a challenge. Greg's a challenge. But, in a way, that's what keeps us going, okay?" She pushed a paper over to Cameron's side of the desk. "Sign here, please."

"It never gets tiring?"

"Spend a month working for him, and I'm sure you'll figure it out on your own," Stacy said, giving Cameron a smile. Cameron noticed, however, that the smile didn't reach didn't her eyes. She filed _that_ away as well.

"Anything else?" Cameron asked.

"You're all set," Stacy replied, taking the paper back from Cameron and stuffing it into a folder. Cameron stood up, said a quick goodbye, and walked out the door. As she started to walk towards the exit, she ran into Dr. Wilson.

"Dr. Cameron?" Wilson asked.

"Dr. Wilson!" Cameron said, surprisingly happy to see him.

"You don't start until next week, do you?"

"No, but I had to do some paperwork."

"Have you settled in yet?" He asked, handing a folder to the nurse.

"I'm still trying to find an apartment, so no, not really," she said, making a face.

"Wait, so you're not going to have a place to stay for at least a month!" Wilson looked taken aback. "How far away do you live?"

"About two hours or so."

"Well, you should at least find a place to stay during the week, because I can guarantee there will be a number of late nights. You know what? I can ask around," Wilson offered.

"I don't know, my husband won't have someone to cook his dinner or clean up after him," Cameron tried to make a joke, but it fell flat.

"How long have you been married?"

"About ten years," she answered.

"What? You seem way too young to have been married ten years." Wilson leaned against the nurse's desk.

"It's a long story," she said, looking down at her feet.

"Well, you should seriously think about finding a temporary place to stay."

"I'll think about it, but in the mean time I need to go apartment hunting," Cameron made a move to walk away.

"Where's your husband?" Wilson asked.

"He's…working," Cameron replied.

"Ah," Wilson said. There was an awkward moment of silence. "Well, Dr. Cameron, I'm sure I'll see you around soon."

"See you," Cameron whispered, waving a tentative goodbye. Wilson nodded an acknowledgement.

* * *

Cameron was surprisingly relaxed about her first day of work. She had found an apartment that she and her husband could move into in at the start of next month. In the mean time, she was spending her weeknights with Dr. Cuddy. At first, she'd been apprehensive about staying with the dean of medicine, but Cuddy had insisted. When she heard about Cameron's dilemma, she called her up and kept Cameron on the phone until she agreed. When Cameron told her husband that she wouldn't be spending much time with him this month, he asked her to make sure the fridge was stocked.

In some kind of passive-aggressive revenge, she bought all sorts of foods that she knew Will hated.

But today was not about Will. Today was about her. Pushing open the door to the diagnostics office, she smiled broadly at the two men sitting there.

"Hi, I'm Dr. Cameron," she said, holding out her hand.

"Foreman," one said, reluctantly shaking her hand.

"Dr. Chase," said the other.

"So you're the new one," Foreman said.

"What do you mean?" Cameron asked, heading towards the coffee machine. She noticed that no one had touched it.

"The last one lasted a week," Chase said.

"The one before that?" Cameron asked.

"Three days," Foreman answered, crossing his arms over his chest.

"So, basically, you guys are expecting me to last how long?"

"I give you five days," Foreman said.

"Eh, I'll give you a week," Chase said, shrugging.

"How much do you want to bet?" Cameron asked, starting the coffee maker. Foreman raised an eyebrow, a slight smile on his lips.

"You know what? I've changed my mind. I'll give you two weeks."

"Then I'll give you two and a half," Chase amended.

"Two hundred bucks says I outlast both of you." Cameron was baiting them, and it worked.

"Done," Foreman replied, reaching for the newspaper.

"Deal," Chase said.

"All right, we've got a patient!" House stormed into the room, throwing a file onto the glass desk. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw Cameron. "She makes coffee? Oh, I think she's a keeper." He walked over to the sink and grabbed a red mug. "This one's mine," he said, handing it to her.

"I'm sure I'll remember that," Cameron replied, placing the mug on the counter. House grunted and moved to the white board.

"Differential diagnosis, people. Let's start with the newbie." House pointed his cane at Cameron.

"I haven't even had a chance to look at the file yet!"

"Wrong! Foreman, your turn."

By the end of the day, Cameron was exhausted. The team had run about four million tests before finally coming up with a diagnosis. She'd tried to keep track of the number of times House insulted her, but lost count after twenty comments about her caring too much, and ten comments which could easily be construed as sexual harassment. She didn't quite understand the insults about her caring too much. Their patient had recently been dumped by her fiancé and was stuck alone in a hospital going through a harsh battery of tests. Was she just supposed to ignore her?

Well, apparently House thought so. If Cameron didn't know the lengths that House went to to solve a case, she wouldn't be sure he cared at all. That doesn't necessarily mean he cared about the patient, but he at least cared enough about failing to do everything he could.

She returned to the office to pick up her things. The lights were still on in House's office, and she couldn't help but take a quick peek. He sat at his desk, staring up at the ceiling, throwing his ball. Cameron had already figured out that this was nothing unusual for House, but she was transfixed by the look on his face.

* * *

House was definitely preoccupied. During Cameron's first day, he had constantly pushed her, hoping to find her limit. He had been pleasantly surprised to realize that he had yet to find it. What he was unpleasantly surprised by was the way he had caught himself staring at her profile as she spoke to the patient, or when she was peering through a microscope. When she had unbuttoned the second button on her blouse, House had to excuse himself from the room.

He rolled his eyes. That had definitely not been his most mature moment. But it was just desire. Desire he could deal with.

As if by some sixth sense, House knew he was being watched. Slowly he turned his gaze to the desk where Cameron sat. He caught her staring at him. For a moment she continued to stare unashamedly, but then House raised an eyebrow. Cameron blushed violently and dropped her gaze. She finished packing up her things, and opened the door to House's office.

"Good night, House," Cameron said. House didn't acknowledge her at first, but when she made no move to leave, he finally replied,

"Don't be late tomorrow." Cameron, instead of being annoyed, said,

"If _you're_ late, don't expect me to make a second pot of coffee."

"Liar," House retorted, "You're way too nice for that."

"Try me," Cameron said, turning away. When she had walked by the office, House finally allowed himself to smile. That smile was wiped off his face when his wife walked through the door.

"Hi, Greg," Stacy said. She had her coat on, clearly ready to go. "Am I going to see you at home?"

"In a while," House said. Stacy smiled, but House saw that it was forced. He sighed inwardly, knowing that his wife was not happy. Yet, he didn't feel as guilty about that as he probably should.

"Okay. Poker night is tomorrow night, right?" Stacy started moving toward the door.

"Yup. Girls' night is tomorrow night?"

"As usual."

"Are you finally going to videotape you and Cuddy during these so-called 'girls' nights'?" House tried to make a joke, but both he and Stacy knew his heart wasn't into it.

"Actually, Allison is going to be joining us tomorrow—you know she's staying with Lisa—so it'll actually be a threesome," Stacy teased.

"Oh, goody," House said, lowering his gaze to his desk. He picked up a pen and began tapping it against the glass. Stacy hesitated for a moment before leaving House to his thoughts.

House placed his hands over his face for a moment, frustrated. He couldn't deny being attracted to his subordinate. One day had showed him that. But he also knew that his marriage wasn't at all satisfying. This attraction to Cameron? It didn't mean anything but the five-year itch.


	3. Girls' Night

Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstances own House.

* * *

CHAPTER 3

Cameron was nervous about girls' night. Stacy and Cuddy were friends; Cameron was invited because she was staying with Cuddy.

But Cameron started to feel more confident as she helped Cuddy with the groceries. Cuddy began to tell stories about House in medical school, all of which sent Cameron into fits of laughter.

"You should have seen the professor's face, Allison, I can't even begin to describe it," Cuddy laughed, and opened a bottle of white wine.

"What did he do with the body?" Cameron asked. She started to lay out the cheeses.

"I have _no_ idea!" Cuddy found the pints of Ben and Jerry's and put them in the freezer. They hadn't been able to decide between flavors, so they just bought three.

"I would have paid to see that," Cameron said.

"If I'd known he was going to do that, I would have charged admission." The two jumped slightly as the doorbell rang.

"I'll get it," Cuddy said, running toward the door. Cameron opened a box of crackers and started to spread them around the plate. She could hear Stacy's voice approach the kitchen.

"Allison! Hi! How are you?"

"I'm great, Stacy, how are you?"

"Good. I'm glad to see the stress of working for Greg hasn't gotten to you." Stacy stepped into the living room quickly and tossed her purse onto the couch.

"Well, it's only been two days," Cameron said, laughing.

"That's two days more than some other people!" Cuddy yelled from the other room. She returned to the kitchen with three wine glasses.

"Oh, thank God," Stacy said, grabbing the wine bottle. She immediately started pouring a glass, and then handed it to Cameron. "I think you deserve first honors, in celebration of two days under Greg House."

"Shouldn't you get first honors for being married to him?" Cuddy asked, taking the next glass. Stacy laughed, pouring the final glass.

"I probably should, but let's face it: the first days are always the worst. Therefore, a toast to Allison Cameron! Long may you reign!" All three women smiled and held up their glasses.

"A toast to Stacy House, wife of the biggest jerk on the planet," Cuddy said.

"A toast to Lisa Cuddy, unfortunate boss of the biggest jerk on the planet," Cameron said. They all took long sips of their wine.

"Shall we move to the living room?" Cuddy asked, reaching for the plate of cheese.

* * *

None of them would ever know how, but two hours later they were on their third bottle of wine. They had gone through all the cheese, and were now sharing the three pints of Ben and Jerry's.

"Okay, pass," Stacy said, reaching for Cameron's pint while handing hers to Cuddy. Cuddy took Stacy's and handed hers to Cameron.

"What happened to House's leg?" Cameron asked. Stacy and Cuddy both froze, spoons in mouth. "Is that a bad question to ask?" Maybe she should start regretting that fourth glass of wine.

"No, no," Stacy replied. "I mean, I can imagine how curious you'd be." She looked up at the ceiling for a moment. "What have you heard?"

"I heard that it was an infarction," Cameron replied.

"It was," Stacy confirmed. "It took days to diagnose, and, of course, it took Greg to diagnose it. By then his kidneys were failing, and we didn't know quite what to do. Greg wanted to do whatever it took to save his leg, and he was just too stubborn to admit that there was a chance that what he wanted to do wouldn't work. I'm afraid I don't remember all the medical lingo. So, when he asked to be put in a medical coma, I used my medical proxy to have muscle from his leg removed. And that's about it." Stacy reached for her glass.

"You went behind his back?" Cameron asked. Then she quickly covered her mouth, realizing that what she said was probably inappropriate.

"Well, he certainly saw it that way. The way that I see it, I saved his life."

"You did, Stacy," Cuddy said, placing a hand on Stacy's shoulder. She turned to Cameron. "House is stubborn, and basically he was being so stubborn that he was willing to risk his life. He might not have liked what we did, but we made sure that he'd…"

"Be in pain for the rest of his life?" Cameron asked, then covering her face again. That fourth glass of wine was definitely a bad idea. Stacy just smiled.

"Yes, Allison, exactly. We knew that that would happen, but none of us were willing to take a chance."

"I just can't imagine that he was very happy about it when he woke up," Cameron said. Stacy and Cuddy both chuckled.

"Uh, no," Stacy replied. "He most certainly was not. During the fifth month of rehab, he finally kicked me out."

"He what?" Cameron gasped. She put down the ice cream and reached for her wine.

"He kicked me out," Stacy repeated. "And I left. For three months I stayed as far away as possible. Then I realized that that wasn't what I wanted. I wanted him, and I was finally willing to fight. Somehow it worked out in the end."

"When were you married?" Cameron asked.

"Five long years ago," Stacy said, laughing. "It wasn't romantic, it wasn't beautiful, and it certainly was not anyone's dream. But I was just happy to make that commitment."

"Are you still happy?" Cameron just couldn't stop the questions. Her curiosity about her boss's marriage was just too overwhelming. Cuddy quickly glanced between the two and took a long gulp of her wine. Stacy took a long time to reply, and that silence probably said more than she ever could.

"I'm just tired of feeling alone, even when we're in the same room. I want him to offer me the last slice of pizza even if he knows that I'm full. I want him to ask me how my day was, and I want him to tell me that I look beautiful. He is a constant challenge, and I love that, I really do, but it gets tiring, you know? Maybe it'd be nice to take a long weekend and go to a bed and breakfast in Vermont." Stacy laughed at the very end, while picturing House going leaf peeping.

"I hate my husband," Cameron announced. Stacy and Cuddy turned to her with shocked looks on their faces.

"It's true," Cameron insisted. "We were married ten years ago, when he was dying of cancer."

"What?" Stacy cried out. "What happened?"

"He was going to die, and we were just so in love. Everyone thought that it was the craziest idea they'd ever heard, but we wanted to make that commitment. We wanted to prove to everyone that our love was real," Cameron snorted. "And he survived, and we were so happy. We began planning the rest of our lives, completely giddy that Fate had given us a second chance. So Will decided that he wanted to follow his lifelong dream of becoming a novelist, but I still wanted to go to med school. Basically, I didn't sleep for four years because I was trying to bring in some money on the side. Will, you understand, thought it was best that he focused full-time on his writing."

"Wait, so he doesn't work?" Cuddy asked.

"Not at all. Not since he had cancer. Maybe I'm just a little sick of being the only source of income in the household, but we've both changed so much. We're completely different people than we were ten years ago, and we have nothing in common any more. I don't remember the last time we went on a date, or the last time he bought me something. He barely says hello to me, and never thanks me for any of the things I do for him. Honestly, I just can't stand it anymore.

"Working for House has just given me this amazing purpose in life, and I'm so grateful. Sure, he's difficult, but I've never been so excited as when we're doing differential diagnoses and the pace is so quick that it feels like you have to sprint just to keep up. I love my job, and for the first time in a long time I can say that I'm happy. I don't miss my husband at all, and I don't even feel like seeing him this weekend. Maybe I'll just go to Atlantic City or something." She smiled, imagining herself in a huge suite with a jacuzzi or at a poker table, wowing everyone with her poker savvy.

"Do you want a divorce?" Stacy asked. She had placed her arm on the back of the couch and was staring intently at Cameron. Cameron opened her mouth to speak, suddenly realizing that no matter how many times she'd thought about what a miserable marriage she had, divorce had never entered her mind. But now her heart was beating wildly as she thought about the prospect of being free and, for instance, not having to spend all of her well-earned cash on expensive laptops for her lazy husband.

"I think I do," Cameron replied. She felt as if a weight had been lifted from her shoulders. "Do you?" she asked Stacy.

"I don't know," Stacy replied. "I can't lie and say I haven't thought about it before." She frowned, losing herself in her thoughts. "You know, Allison, I can give you the name of a good divorce lawyer, if that's what you really want."

"I think I do."

"Tell you what, you sleep on it, and if you feel the same way tomorrow, let me know."

"I will," Cameron said, finishing her glass of wine.

"You should talk to Wilson," Cuddy said.

"Why?" Cameron asked.

"He's finishing up marriage number three," Stacy replied.

"Seriously?" Cameron just couldn't believe it. "But why? He seems so nice!"

"Nice, but with a bit of a wandering eye," Cuddy said, and the two older woman shared a knowing glance.

"I can't believe it!" Cameron exclaimed. The conversation then turned to gossip, and the serious moment had passed.


	4. A Heck of a Hangover

Disclaimer: I do not under any circumstances own House.

* * *

CHAPTER 4

Cameron woke up in Cuddy's guest room with a heck of a hangover. She lay in bed for a moment, staring at the ceiling. Slowly but surely the events of the last evening came back to her, and she couldn't help but groan aloud. Why did she tell Stacy and Cuddy that she wanted to divorce her husband? She didn't really mean that, did she?

Right now, the only thing she needed to think about was trying to get out of bed and make her way to work.

"Allison?" Cuddy called through the door.

"Uuuuhhhhhh," Cameron replied.

"Yeah, that's about how I feel," Cuddy said. "I'm making coffee." Cameron could hear Cuddy's retreating footsteps. She threw off her covers, and slowly sat up in bed. That didn't go too well, so Cameron flopped back down on the bed. Her head was pounding, and she had to swallow in an effort to overcome her nausea.

Over and over she replayed that conversation in her mind. Why had she told her boss's boss and her boss's wife that she was stuck in a miserable marriage? Her marriage wasn't that bad. Was it? She kept asking herself that over and over again.

Time to try sitting up again.

This time it worked. Next step was to make her way to the bathroom. She ended up running to the bathroom in order to empty the contents of her stomach. Placing her head against the cool porcelain, Cameron groaned aloud once more. She briefly considered not going to work, but House would probably never her let her live it down.

Time to try standing up.

Cameron finally managed to take a shower, brush her teeth, and get dressed. Walking down the stairs was the most difficult task she'd undertaken in a while, but it was the aroma of freshly-brewed coffee that kept her going.

"Lisa?" Cameron called out. So far she refused to call her boss by her first name, but these were special circumstances.

"Allison!" Cuddy responded. "I made coffee," she said, handing Cameron a mug.

"I would marry you right now if I could," Cameron gushed.

"We're still on track to beat House by at least a couple of hours, so we could probably try a quick saline drip before he gets in," Cuddy suggested. One of the perks of working in a hospital was the accessibility of the perfect hangover cure.

"Oh my God, please. I don't know how I'll deal with him otherwise." Cuddy started chuckling at Cameron's remark, but then grabbed her head.

"Ow, it hurts to laugh. Stop making me laugh."

"I wonder how Stacy's doing," Cameron wondered.

"Stacy can hold her liquor, I can assure you that."

* * *

Stacy reached for the alarm, and shut it off with a violent slap. House didn't move beside her; she knew it would be at least another two to three hours before he would make his way to work. She turned over and stared at her husband for a long moment. His face was surprisingly calm and gentle when he slept, though today she could see him grimace slightly, which very likely meant he was in some pain. She hated it when he was in pain.

With a big sigh, she threw off her covers and made her way to the kitchen. Stacy gasped slightly as her feet touched the hardwood floor in the hall. Winter was obviously around the corner. She walked into the kitchen, and inhaled deeply. Her coffee machine was timed so that every day when she woke up, she was greeted by lovely, steaming, hot coffee. Stacy grabbed her favorite mug from the cupboard, and poured herself some coffee.

"How was girls' night?" Stacy jumped at the sound of House's voice. She turned towards him. He was leaning against the kitchen counter, shirtless despite the cold, but the intensity of his gaze was a bit too much for her without her first cup of coffee.

"It was fun," she replied. "What are you doing up so early?" House didn't reply, and instead reached for the bottle of Vicodin. "Oh," she said stupidly.

"What, did you drive home drunk, or something?" House asked, dry-swallowing a couple of pills. Most girls' nights, Stacy didn't come home, preferring to crash in Lisa's guest room. With Allison there, though, she figured it would be best to just head back.

"No, I waited until I sobered up. You know me, Greg, I know how to drink. I felt bad, though, leaving Lisa and Allison; they were pretty foxed."

"Really?" House was suddenly interested. "I wonder if that means…" he trailed off, looking up at the ceiling.

"If that means what?" Stacy asked, taking a large gulp of coffee. She didn't like that look on Greg's face. It usually meant mischief of some kind.

"Do you think they'll be hung over?" House asked. He was trying to play it cool, but he clearly had a plan in mind. Stacy tried to stare him down, but after years with Greg, she could only count on one hand the number of times she'd managed to win that particular game.

"I don't know," Stacy replied slowly. House clearly took that as an affirmative answer, because he smiled and said,

"Excellent."

* * *

Cameron and Cuddy walked into the hospital, both on the look-out for House. Cuddy scanned the left, while Cameron scanned the right. When both realized that the coast was clear, they looked at each other and nodded.

" I can't believe how paranoid we're being," Cuddy whispered, suddenly laughing.

"Neither can I," Cameron said, smiling in return. They nodded to the nurses, and quickly ducked into Cuddy's office.

"Okay, I called ahead, and asked Wilson to bring us the saline drip. He should be here…" before Cuddy could finish her sentence, Wilson had knocked on the door. Both women grimaced at the noise, but Cuddy called out in a clear voice, "Come in!"

"Good morning ladies," Wilson said. He grinned at the sight of the two women. Cameron noticed, though it appeared that Cuddy did not, that Wilson's gaze lingered for just a moment longer on Cuddy's face than on Cameron's. She had to look down at her lap in order to hide her smile. "So you guys had fun last night, I take it?" He went into doctor mode, instructing the two where to sit and so on.

"Tons," Cuddy replied, looking away as Wilson found her vein. "How was poker night?" She asked, moving her gaze to Wilson's face. He was so focused on his task, though, that he didn't notice the tender look she gave him.

"Oh, fun as usual: House cleaned us all out, mocked us while doing so, but at least let us drink his beer."

"The beer Stacy bought for you guys, most likely," Cuddy said, lying back on the couch. As she closed her eyes, Wilson looked up at Cuddy, and Cameron's heart constricted as she saw the look on his face. These two really needed to talk to each other. Wilson noticed, however, that Cameron was staring at him. Blushing, he met her gaze. She raised an eyebrow and smiled knowingly. He blushed deeply and said,

"You're all set, Cuddy." Cuddy smiled, drawing Wilson's attention back to her.

"Thanks, Wilson. Just, whatever you do, don't tell House about this." As he moved to Cameron's side, Wilson said,

"I wouldn't dream of it." Since Cuddy was on the other side of the room, Cameron whispered to him,

"Yeah, but there are certainly other things you're dreaming about." Wilson gave Cameron a look.

"Cameron, not even House knows, so please, for the love of whatever it is you believe in, do _not_ say anything to him."

"You're not going to deny it?" Cameron asked, intrigued.

"Should I even bother?"

"Well, I wouldn't believe you if you did."

"So, I figure I'll just appeal to your sense of mercy," Wilson said. He smiled at her, and proceeded to stick the needle into her vein just a little harder than necessary.

"_That's_ your appeal to my sense of mercy?" Cameron winced, and glared at Wilson.

"No, that's payback for you giving me trouble." He was grinning now, clearly enjoying her moment of pain. She did her best to glare at him, but couldn't help smiling back.

"I may be starting to understand why you and House are friends."

"What are you two whispering about?" Cuddy asked from the other side of the room. Wilson froze, but Cameron calmly replied,

"House. We were taking bets on how long it would take him to figure out we're down here."

"Oh, come on," Cuddy said. "He doesn't even get out of bed before nine, and it's only eight-thirty. We've got…"

Cuddy was interrupted by the door, which swung open violently and crashed against the wall. The sound was overwhelming, causing the two women to grimace.

"HELLO, GOOD MORNING, HOW ARE YOU DOING TODAY?" Of course, _of course_, it was House.


	5. A Test

Disclaimer: I do not own House.

A/N: Thanks to those who have read, reviewed, or added me to their alerts. It certainly means a lot to me. If anyone is interested in being my beta, let me know. All my chapters so far are un-beta-ed because I haven't really met anyone around here yet. I'm definitely up for revising, though.

* * *

CHAPTER 5

"House, get out of here," Cuddy groaned, covering her eyes. Cameron had grimaced when House stormed into the room, but she was now trying to appear unaffected. Oh no, she wasn't going to let him win this one. House turned to face her, and saw the glint of defiance in her eyes.

Gregory House was never one to back down from a challenge.

"I'M SORRY, WHAT WAS THAT, DR. CUDDY?" House whipped around to face Cuddy, and in doing so, his cane knocked down half of the knickknacks on Cuddy's desk.

"How did he even know we were here?" Cuddy wondered aloud. Cameron pinched her hand in an attempt to take the pain focus away from her head. Wilson, on the other hand, had simply backed up into a corner, perfectly willing to watch the scene unfold.

"Stacy," Cameron answered. House raised an eyebrow in response. "She was there last night; she knew how much we drank, so of course she told him. Judging by his behavior so far, he's assuming we're hung over." She paused for a moment, letting that thought sink in. "That means, House, that you came down here early for the express purpose of making us suffer!" House met her gaze and smirked.

"NOW WHY WOULD I DO THAT?" Apparently the screaming bit was not getting old.

"Sociopathic glee?" Cameron suggested. When Wilson snorted in response, House turned to glare at him.

"House, I swear to God, every single minute you spend in here is one more hour I'm going to make you spend doing clinic duty," Cuddy threatened. She opened her eyes, and leaned forward, doing her best to intimidate. Despite the unbelievable hangover, the Dean of Medicine was officially in the house.

Gregory House was never one to be easily intimidated.

He lowered his gaze to her chest, staring unabashedly for a long minute. Cuddy held her ground.

"I'm sorry, I didn't catch what you said. I was _really_ distracted," House said, shaking his head as if coming out of a daze. This time it was Cameron's turn to snort.

"House. Out." Cuddy was currently incapable of complete sentences.

"But I need my subordinate to help me with our new case," House reasoned. He leaned on his cane, and turned to stare at Cameron. She held his gaze, and the air suddenly became heavy around her. There was an intensity in his eyes that maybe, just maybe, she wasn't ready to handle. Cuddy's eyes flicked to Cameron for a moment before she responded,

"She'll be with you in a hour or two, House. Start without her."

"So, because she got drunk with _you_, she's allowed to be late to work? Is that really fair, Dr. Cuddy? Is that professional?" House tore his gaze away from Cameron, and instead focused on Cuddy. The intensity was gone, replaced by his usual caustic demeanor.

"Is it professional to come in at ten, eleven, or twelve o'clock?" Before House could open his mouth to respond, Cuddy continued. "No, it isn't, is it? So, since you usually wouldn't be in for at least another hour or so, you can just pretend that we're not here."

"It's okay, Cuddy," Cameron said. "If Dr. House really needs me, then I'm ready to work." House lowered his gaze to the floor, hiding the quick smile that flitted across his features.

"I'll see you in five minutes, then," House said, moving towards the door. On the way out, he threw his cane around a bit more, even smacking Cameron against the shins. She glared at his back, plotting various in which to exact her revenge.

"OKAY, DR. CUDDY, I HOPE THAT YOUR MASSIVE HANGOVER GETS BETTER. NEXT TIME, MAYBE YOU SHOULD LAY OFF THE TEQUILA SHOTS!" With that parting shot, House slammed the door behind him.

Cuddy sighed, and leaned back against the couch.

"If he wasn't a genius…" She said, throwing her hands up. Wilson took his hands out of his pockets and crossed his arms over his chest.

"Cameron, are you sure that you want to go work now? I didn't like the look on his face," he said.

"He's testing me," Cameron countered. "I'm not going to let him get to me." Wilson sighed.

"All right, then," he said, shrugging. "It's your funeral," he mumbled under his breath. Cameron pretended she didn't hear him.

* * *

When she finally made it up to the diagnostics office a good twenty minutes later, she found House, Foreman, and Chase in the middle of a differential diagnosis. Neither Foreman nor Chase looked up when she walked into the room, so she quietly sat down at the table. Chase passed her the file with a quick grin.

House slammed his cane onto the table, causing Cameron to nearly jump out of her seat. She bit her lip, trying her best to ignore the pounding in her head.

"Nice of you to join us, Dr. Cameron," he said. "I need you to get a full patient history."

"Of course, House!" she replied as cheerfully as possible. House stared at her, suddenly apprehensive.

"Try not to care so much this time." With that, House went to hide in his office, presumably to play video games or watch TV. Foreman and Chase both turned to Cameron.

"Rough night with Cuddy and Stacy?" Foreman asked. Cameron still wasn't sure how she felt about Foreman. He didn't seem to be asking the question out of any sense of concern or even general interest in her life. Instead, it was purely reflexive, as if he felt he had to. Maybe he was someone that you just needed to get to know.

"A bit, yeah," Cameron conceded. Chase smiled again.

"House picks up on that stuff. I learned my lesson a few months ago, and swore never to drink during the week. He did his best to make me miserable, I can tell you that." Foreman rolled his eyes in response to Chase and stood up.

"I'm going to run some labs," he said. Chase stayed to chat for a moment.

"How are you doing so far?" he asked. Cameron smiled, perusing the chart.

"I love it. I don't necessarily love the constant attitude on House's part, but I love the job."

"Good," Chase said, nodding. "That's definitely going to help you survive here."

"You make it sound like we're in the trenches here." Cameron certainly felt that way sometimes, but she was trying to get a read on Chase. At first glance he seemed shallow, but she couldn't help but wonder if there was something underneath the pretty boy façade.

"Give it a few weeks," he replied, standing up. "You'll see."

* * *

After taking the patient's history, Cameron went back to the office in search of something to drink. Her mouth felt dry, and she was beginning to feel slightly nauseous again. Unfortunately the headache had subsided only slightly, but she decided she was going to take an aspirin.

"Anything interesting?" House had heard Cameron come in, and was now standing at the threshold of his office. She turned away from the sink to face him.

"Nothing much," she answered. House rolled his eyes.

"Are you going to give me anything specific?" He took a step into the conference room. Cameron turned back to the sink, and noticed that there was still coffee in the coffee pot. Suddenly, an idea came to her. She reached for a mug and poured herself some coffee.

"Here, I'll show you," she said, picking up the file and moving towards House. As she approached him, she pretended to trip. The coffee landed all over the front of House's shirt and jeans. "Oh! I'm so sorry, House!" Cameron gasped.

House looked down at his clothes, and then looked up at Cameron. His eyes narrowed.

"It's cold coffee, Cameron. Why would you be drinking cold coffee?" He raised an eyebrow. "You wouldn't, would you? Instead, you planned this dramatic little gesture, probably as some sort of act of revenge. I don't know what I could have done to deserve _this_," he said, motioning to his clothes. "But you're absolutely pathetic. Even when trying to be mean, you're still _nice_. You wouldn't want to risk burning me, would you? Therefore, you use cold coffee. But what you didn't think about was the fact that I don't clean my clothes, Stacy does. So you're only making extra work for her, as well as the poor janitor who will probably have to work overtime and miss his kid's second grade play in order to clean up the nasty stain on the floor." Cameron felt a blush rise in her cheeks.

"I'll wash the clothes," she offered. House rolled his eyes again and grabbed the file from her hands. He sat down at the table, and opened the file.

"You just wasted what was otherwise a good effort. You're not supposed to apologize for an act of vengeance." Cameron sat down next to House, leaning towards him to get a better look at the file. The air grew slightly heavy again, as she got a whiff of his subtle cologne. Again she felt herself blush. That was something she'd have to work on.

House was completely engrossed in the file, so he was slightly surprised to notice Cameron's proximity when he turned to show her something. As he caught her gaze, he completely forgot what he was going to say. After a moment, he pushed the file towards her.

"You missed something interesting," he said. Immediately consternation appeared on her features, and she reached for the file. For a brief second their fingers touched. Both of them noticed that there had been no real reason for Cameron to touch him, but neither of them regretted it.

As Cameron looked through the file, House leaned forward to watch over her shoulder. They spent a few minutes sitting close together until Cameron noticed what it was that she had missed. She peered over her shoulder at House, taking in the look on his face.

"I see it," she said.

"Good," he replied. They sat for a bit longer, staring at each other, desperately trying to figure the other one out. After a minute, however, Chase and Foreman threw open the door, test results in hand. House and Cameron jumped apart, and the moment passed. Time to get back to work.


	6. Husbands and Wives

**Disclaimer: I do not own House.**

**A/N: Thanks for the reviews, guys! It's always great to know that people are enjoying this. There will be more House/Cam interaction in the next chapter, I promise.  
**

* * *

CHAPTER 6

A few hours later, House was in his office, PSP in hand. When he heard his door open, he paused the game and looked up. It was Stacy. For a brief moment he had hoped it was someone else, but he quickly quelled his disappointment. She was dressed in her favorite black suit, a suit that House used to love on her (and love to take off her), but now it was old hat.

"Have you eaten yet?" She sounded surprisingly hesitant, hovering at the doorway. After taking in his appearance, however, she raised her eyebrows. "What happened to your shirt?" House had yet to change his clothes, despite the coffee stains.

"Cameron," he replied, shrugging.

"Allison did that?" Stacy smiled. House put his PSP on his desk and stood up.

"On purpose, too," he said in a conspiratorial whisper. "I'm just wearing it long enough to make her feel as guilty as possible."

"Oh, I don't believe you; she would never do that," Stacy scoffed. She continued to smile, though, clearly enjoying the mental image. "So, how about some lunch?"

House's eyes flicked to the conference room, where Cameron was at the computer, answering his emails. She looked so concentrated, so focused, that she didn't appear to notice Stacy, or him for that matter. Stacy's brow furrowed as she followed the direction of House's eyes. When she saw Cameron, however, she smiled.

"Afraid to appear soft in front of your employees, Greg?" Stacy teased.

_Yeah, that's it…_ House thought, not surprisingly unconvinced. "Let's go," he said, grabbing his jacket. "But you're paying."

"You're so chivalrous," Stacy remarked, holding the door open for him.

"Welcome to the twenty-first century, baby!"

* * *

As the two sat down to eat in the cafeteria, House began to feel awkward. He quickly scanned the room, noticing the people who glanced in his direction. How was it possible to feel awkward eating lunch with your wife? He didn't really want to come up with an answer to that, but he had a few ideas. The trials of lusting after your subordinate did not make for great meal conversation, especially with your wife. 

"So, Lisa told me about your shenanigans in her office this morning," Stacy said in between bites of her salad. House smirked and reached for a napkin.

"I do not commit shenanigans," he protested. "I was just checking up on her and Cameron. You know, to make sure that they were going to be okay." He took a huge bite of his Reuben.

"Greg, I saw the destruction in her office. Poor Wilson was left cleaning it up after you and Allison left," Stacy chided.

"Wilson cleaned it up? Interesting…" House's eyes narrowed as certain possibilities began to enter his mind.

"What?" Stacy asked. That look on her face was as familiar as the back of her hand. She knew he was up to something.

"Nothing," House replied, taking another bite of his sandwich. Stacy frowned, somewhat surprised that House wouldn't share. Well, it shouldn't be _too_ surprising—House was not a sharer—but something about him had been off this week. Maybe he was just adapting to the addition of his new fellow…

House noticed the frown on Stacy's face, and felt a pang of guilt. He swallowed his mouthful of sandwich, and leaned towards her. After hesitating a moment, he placed a soft kiss on her cheek. Stacy grinned, and the smile lit up her whole face. House was still sitting close to her, and he lingered for a moment, waiting to feel something.

"What was that for?" Stacy asked, still grinning. House had never been one for PDA. "Ew, Greg, the sauerkraut." He frowned, and moved away from her.

"No reason," he replied. Lowering his gaze down to his sandwich, House sighed. He hadn't felt a thing.

* * *

Cameron was nervous as she approached the door of her apartment. It had been a whole week since she'd seen her husband, and their contact had been limited to a few phone calls which had mostly consisted of, "Where do you keep the pasta?' She had enjoyed staying at Cuddy's, though, where she'd been free of the responsibilities she had here. With a shaky sigh, Cameron put her key into the door, and turned it. Slowly she opened the door, straining to hear any sounds of life inside the apartment. 

"Allie!" her husband exclaimed. He rushed up to her and drew her into a hug. Cameron smiled at his outburst, unused to spontaneous displays of affection. "Allie, Allie, Allie, I missed you!" Will smiled and kissed her. She was enjoying the attention, but that was probably because he so rarely bestowed any upon her. That thought made her frown, though Will only continued to speak excitedly.

"They're going to publish my book! My agent called me this morning, so next week I'm going to go meet my editor and sign a contract. Aren't you so thrilled?" He laughed and hugged her again.

"That's great, Will," Cameron said, attempting to smile. Her heart wasn't into it, though. Shouldn't she be more supportive of her husband? Maybe, just maybe, she would be if he'd ever shown her an ounce of support. But that was too petty. He'd been working for years, trying to publish, and now he had his big break. _You worked for years to get where _you_ are, didn't you?_ a voice in the back of her head reminded her. The memory of what she said to Cuddy and Stacy during girls' night flashed through her mind, and Cameron had to take a second to focus back on the situation at hand. "How did you figure out the contract so quickly?" she asked.

"Well, they've been working on it for the past few weeks," Will explained, still grinning. He looked ridiculously pleased with himself, and Cameron felt the sudden urge to smack him.

"Why didn't you tell me?" She stepped away from her husband and crossed her arms over her chest.

"Oh, come on, Allie, don't be like this. Not right now! This is the best thing that's ever happened to me!" He huffed and rolled his eyes. Cameron gritted her teeth.

"Seriously, Will, why didn't you tell me?" She wasn't going to back down. Will looked suddenly confused. He certainly wasn't used to Cameron acting like this. She was probably just tired and stressed after her first week, he rationalized. Sure, that was it.

"You were starting your new job, and trying to find an apartment; I didn't want to bother you," he said, shrugging. Cameron threw her arms up in the air and stomped to the kitchen. "Wait, what is it?" he called after her. He heard the cabinet doors slam, and apprehensively followed her to he kitchen. "Allie?"

"You didn't want to _bother _me?" she yelled. "_Bother_ me? I've been spending years working so that you can write full-time! I've scrimped and saved, and forgone any luxuries only so that you could write. This has been years in the making, and even though I've been nothing but supportive, you wouldn't even tell me what's going on? What the Hell, Will?" He only stood there, shocked. They never fought, and if they did, she never yelled. Cameron stood silently, waiting for him to defend himself.

"Come on, Allie," he said finally, putting his arms around her.

"No, Will," she said, squirming. He restrained her though, shushing her.

"I'm sorry, Allie, really, I am. But don't ruin my big day for me; don't do this. Let's just go out and celebrate. We'll go out for a nice dinner, get a fancy bottle of champagne, and then we can come back here. How does that sound?" There was no missing the implication of the words "we can come back here," but Cameron only sighed in response. She stood for a minute, letting her husband hold her, and waited. She waited to feel something for him, anything.

Instead, she didn't feel a thing.


	7. The Dumpling

**Disclaimer: I do not own House. :(**

**A/N: Thanks for reading and reviewing! I really can't tell you how much I appreciate it.  
**

* * *

CHAPTER 7

Cameron was somewhat relieved to return to work on Monday. Though her husband had been in a remarkably good mood all weekend, she couldn't help but feel slightly… put off. Truthfully, she was still steaming about the fact that he hadn't told her anything about his book deal. But, in the end, she was happy for him. Perhaps she was just a tad happier about the fact that he'd finally be making some money.

She was standing at the nurses' desk in the clinic finishing up some paperwork when she saw Cuddy and Stacy emerge from Cuddy's office. They both smiled and walked towards her.

"So, how was your weekend?" Stacy asked. Cameron knew that she was really asking about Will.

"Well, Will's novel is going to be published, so that's good news," Cameron replied.

"That's great, right?" Cuddy asked. Cameron took a moment to hand the file to the nurse at the desk, and said,

"Yes, it is. He was in a really good mood all weekend. He was very…attentive."

"Good!" Stacy said, smiling. She turned towards the elevator and saw House coming their way. "Excuse me." Stacy made her way to House, while Cameron watched intently. She watched as Stacy greeted her husband, running her hands along the lapels of his jacket. Seemingly embarrassed, House looked around him, finally settling on Cameron. He held her gaze until Stacy turned around, confused.

"House in the clinic?" Cameron asked, grabbing a file. Her voice was just a bit too harsh. Cuddy gave her a searching look, and replied slowly.

"It happens every so often." They both turned back to House and Stacy, and watched as Stacy dragged House away, presumably to eat lunch. Cameron sighed audibly, and Cuddy turned to face her.

"Allison…" she began. When Cameron looked up, Cuddy hesitated.

"What is it?" Cuddy didn't answer for a long time, and instead frowned.

"It's nothing."

* * *

SIX MONTHS LATER… 

Six months seemed to pass in a blink of an eye. Cameron and Will moved into their apartment, though at the moment they were leading completely separate lives. Will was completely focused on his book, and Cameron was completely focused on her job. She often worked late nights as well as the occasional Saturday, not to mention the weekly girls' night. But they were still living amicably together, never fighting or getting into any sort of disagreement. In fact, for the first time in a while, Cameron felt absolutely no ill will towards her husband.

That didn't mean, however, that she felt madly in love with him.

The team was spending a long night at the hospital, monitoring a patient. Normally only one person would be needed to do so, but since it had been three frustrating days with no diagnosis, everyone felt obliged to stay. They'd been running tests all day, and only now took the time to relax somewhat.

"Do you guys want to get some food?" Foreman asked. Once Foreman had realized that Cameron was in it for the long haul—and after she'd come up with a diagnosis—he warmed up slightly. He wasn't the warm and fuzzy type, but they worked well together.

"How about Chinese?" Cameron suggested.

"That sounds great," Chase replied. He leaned back in his chair, clearly exhausted.

"Hey, Foreman, how about you ask House if he wants anything, and I'll go ask Wilson," Cameron suggested. She closed the file she was looking at, and took off her glasses. Foreman nodded in response and stood up. House had locked himself in his office in the early afternoon, and no one had spoken to him since. It hadn't taken long for Cameron to realize that House wasn't shirking his duties during these periods, because he often emerged from the office with some brilliant idea that saved the day. Sometimes it was frustrating, but sometimes it was relieving. Tonight would be a night in which Cameron would love it if House could work his magic.

She made her way to Wilson's office, and knocked and the door. She knew that he was working on paperwork tonight, and so had no doubts that he would be there.

"Come in!" he called out. Cameron opened the door. "Cameron, what can I do for you?" Wilson didn't look up from his paperwork after the quick glance to determine who had knocked on the door.

"We were going to order Chinese, and we were wondering if you wanted anything."

Wilson put down his pen and sighed. He ran his hands along his face, thinking for a moment.

"You know what? I'd love some Chinese, and even better, I'd love to get out of here and pick it up myself. You want to come with?" he offered.

"I'd love that, actually," Cameron replied, smiling.

"Great!" Wilson stood up and grabbed his coat. He fumbled for his keys for a moment and said, "All right, let's figure out our order and let's get the Hell out of here."

* * *

Cameron had almost expected the car ride to be awkward, but she and Wilson managed to keep up a steady stream of conversation. 

"So, when are you going to tell Cuddy that you're madly in love with her?" Cameron asked, smiling mischievously. Wilson rolled his eyes.

"I'm not _madly in love_ with her. I just happen to appreciate her," he reasoned.

"Oh right, I'm sure you 'appreciate' certain fine qualities," Cameron laughed, motioning to her chest. Wilson blushed, which only amused her further.

"What about you?" Wilson asked. "How's your husband?"

"Oh, you know…" Cameron replied vaguely. Wilson raised an eyebrow.

"No, as a matter of fact I don't know."

"Well, you know he's a writer, and he's publishing a novel. So, he's very busy with that, and I'm very busy here, so we don't spend much time with each other at the moment. It happens," she said, shrugging.

"That's when you make the time to see each other," Wilson admonished. Cameron turned to look out the window, and spoke softly.

"I've found that I don't exactly miss him."

"Now I understand," Wilson said.

"You do?"

"Of course. Listen, you married young. You were both completely different people back then. So, now that you're both older and you've found your own paths in life, you're growing apart. That happens to a lot of couples. Some survive it, and some don't." He pulled into the restaurant parking lot.

"Are you trying to predict the demise of my marriage?" Cameron asked.

"Not necessarily, I'm just saying that if you _want_ your marriage to survive, then you're going to have to work on it. You don't want to spend the rest of your life with a complete stranger, do you?" Wilson turned off the car, but he didn't make any move to get out.

"No, I guess not," she conceded. When Cameron's expression turned pensive, Wilson decided not to say anything else, wondering if she would try to fill the sudden silence. Cameron, on her part, was trying to decide whether or not to tell Wilson something, something she hadn't told anyone.

"I'm attracted to someone else," Cameron blurted out. Wilson raised an eyebrow, but let her continue. "I don't know, it's all very strange. I would never be unfaithful, but I've never really felt like this before. When I met my husband, he was dying of cancer, so passion and attraction were replaced by chemotherapy and hospitals. It was about personality more than anything else, you know? I'm not saying that I don't find my husband attractive, but our relationship was never about that."

"Well, I know all about being attracted to someone outside of marriage," Wilson joked. "Usually it's not about that person, but rather about trying to fill a hole in your marriage. Maybe you're flattered by the attention, or you enjoy the lack of neediness, it can be anything. So try thinking about what makes this person attractive, and see how it fits into your marriage. Then you have a chance of fixing what's broken."

"What if it isn't that? What if it's something more real?"

"Then you're in trouble," Wilson said. He opened the car door, and stepped out. "Big trouble," he called out from the outside. Cameron waited until he slammed the door before getting out. She knew deep down that she was definitely in trouble.

* * *

When she and Wilson made it back to the conference room, bags of Chinese food in hand, House, Chase, and Foreman were eagerly awaiting them. 

"Finally," House grumbled. Cameron was surprised to notice that paper plates had been set out ahead of time. "Did you get chopsticks?" he asked.

"How long have we been friends, House?" Wilson asked, reaching for the pile of chopsticks. Cameron and Foreman glanced at each other and smiled. Sometimes it seemed that House and Wilson were a married couple.

The group ate in a companionable silence, interspersed with some small talk. They all laughed when Chase spilled soy sauce on his tie, as well as while watching Cameron desperately try, and fail, to use chopsticks. After continuous mocking by House, Cameron finally gave up and grabbed a fork.

"Are there any dumplings left?" Cameron asked. House froze with the final dumpling halfway to his mouth. He rolled his eyes and reached over to place the dumpling on Cameron's plate.

"I don't want you to start crying on us, or something," House explained. Cameron just stared at the dumpling in complete wonderment. In a flash, Cameron remembered something Stacy had said during the first girls' night.

"_I want him to offer me the last slice of pizza even if he knows that I'm full."_

Okay, so it wasn't a slice of pizza, and Cameron wasn't full yet, but something about the gesture struck her. It was surprisingly caring, at least by House's standards. It was, by far, the most beautiful dumpling she had ever seen. Cameron turned to House, and found him staring at her. He seemed slightly uncomfortable, though Cameron couldn't be sure why.

She looked down at the dumpling again, and cut it in half with her fork.

"You know, House, I learned something important in kindergarten. Something called 'sharing.' Ever hear of it?" She stabbed half of it with her fork and reached over to place it on House's plate. But the dumpling didn't want to come off, so House took his chopsticks and placed them on either side of her fork. Still staring at Cameron, he slowly slid the chopsticks down until the dumpling fell on his plate with a plop. Cameron felt her heart beat wildly in her chest as she looked straight into House's eyes. There was something in them, something she couldn't put her finger on... For another few seconds, the two held the other's gaze, until Wilson coughed loudly.

Blushing, Cameron drew her hand back. She looked over at Wilson, who was sitting next to her. He had his arms crossed over his chest. Leaning forward, Wilson whispered into her ear,

"Big trouble."


	8. The Dinner Party, Part I

**Disclaimer: I don't own House! **

**A/N: I'm enjoying writing this so much, and I'm glad to know you guys are enjoying reading it. Please continue to review. You guys are awesome. Things heat up a bit in this chapter.  
**

* * *

CHAPTER 8

The next day, Cameron was in the clinic. After eating the take-out, House had retreated into his office, only to emerge an hour later with a diagnosis. All three fellows had breathed a sigh of relief, and then ran to administer the medicine. But when Cameron returned to the office later that night—actually, later that morning—there were still lights on in his office. She resisted the urge to go in, and instead left without saying a word. It was probably for the best, she reasoned.

So, today she was hiding in the clinic. The monotony was somewhat comforting, though. It provided a break from the chaos that usually went on in the diagnostics wing.

"Allison?" Cameron whipped around and saw Cuddy standing behind her.

"Hey! What's up?" She turned to face Cuddy, giving her her full attention.

"Oh, well, I was thinking about throwing a small dinner party this upcoming Saturday night, and I was wondering if you and your husband would like to come. Wilson's going to be there, as well as House and Stacy. It'll just be something small and relaxed."

"That sounds great," Cameron said. "I certainly don't have plans, and I don't think Will has anything." She paused for a moment, and then felt the words tumble out of her mouth, "So, House is going to be there? How'd you get him to agree to that?" Cuddy smiled.

"_I'm_ not the one who has to convince him. I think it's more along the lines of Stacy telling him that he has to go."

"Of course," Cameron replied. "I should have known." She looked down at the file in her hand, and, not knowing quite what to do, gave it to the nurse on duty. Cuddy frowned, and crossed her arms over her chest.

"How are things going with House?" Cuddy asked.

"What do you mean?" Cameron spoke slowly and carefully. She eyed Cuddy warily.

"What do you _think_ I mean, Allison?"

"I don't know. I mean, things with House are just as they usually are. He mocks us, we run tests, come up with ideas, and then he mocks us some more. You know, the usual." Cameron grabbed a new file and started to head towards an exam room. "I'll see you on Saturday!" she called out.

Cuddy watched her go, shaking her head.

* * *

That Saturday, Cameron knocked on Cuddy's front door. She was holding a bottle of wine, nervously tapping her toes, when Cuddy opened the door with a smile. 

"Allison!" she greeted. Cuddy had, despite having told Cameron that the gathering would be "small and relaxed," dressed up for the occasion. Well, she always looked stunning in red. Cameron ran her hand over her green blouse. _At least my shoes match…_ she thought.

"Lisa, this is my husband, Will," Cameron said, motioning to her husband. Will smiled back, and shook Cuddy's hand.

"I'm glad to finally meet you," he said, turning on the charm. He was wearing his nice button-down shirt and blazer, and looked the part of the sophisticated writer. Cameron resisted the urge to roll her eyes. Cuddy fell for it, however, and said,

"I'm so glad to meet you, Will." They followed her into living room, where they found Wilson, Stacy, and a very grumpy-looking House. While Wilson and Stacy were chatting animatedly, House stood in a corner, perusing Cuddy's bookcase. Unsurprisingly, he had not dressed up for the occasion.

"Hey, everyone, this is Allison's husband, Will," Cuddy said. One by one, Wilson and Stacy stepped up and introduced themselves. House, however, didn't move an inch. He didn't even turn around.

"That's my boss, Dr. House," Cameron explained to Will in a soft voice. He nodded, and looked House over. For a fraction of a second, his gaze lingered on House's cane.

"Delighted, I'm sure!" House called out, still not turning to face them. Cameron felt a blush rise in her cheeks as she watched her husband make a face at her boss' back. She looked down at the floor, and then looked up at Wilson and Stacy. Stacy was still watching House, an enigmatic expression on her face. Wilson, on the other hand, met Cameron's gaze. He raised an eyebrow, and shoved his hands into his pockets. After a brief, awkward pause, Cuddy broke the silence.

"Allison, Will, can I get you some wine?"

"Please," Cameron replied. She followed Cuddy in the kitchen. "Why is House being such an ass?" she asked Cuddy. Cuddy shrugged, and opened a cabinet.

"He's House? Does he need any other reason?"

"I suppose not," Cameron conceded. She waited patiently until Cuddy handed her a glass of wine. "Thanks," she said, taking a sip. "I have a feeling I'm going to need this."

* * *

When they sat down to eat, Cameron was glad to find that she was seated next to Will, and across from House. At least this way House wouldn't have direct access to Will. It had become blatantly apparent to everyone that House had decided that he did not like Will. Cameron couldn't pretend that she wasn't surprised—House didn't like anyone—but she was a little confused by the vitriol that was behind his attacks. 

"So, _Billy_, what is it exactly that you do?" House asked, violently cutting his roast.

"Well, Dr. House, I'm a writer. My first book is going to be published in the next few months," Will said, completely ignoring House's tone. He looked around the table, waiting for the congratulations and admiration.

"That's great," Stacy said. Cuddy and Wilson murmured their agreement.

"What's the book about?" House asked.

"That's a great question. It's very postmodern, you know, very fragmented. It's a bit of a social commentary, about the distortion of masculinity and so on. Basically, a man's search for identity in today's society." Cameron had read the book, and therefore knew what he was talking about, but the way he described it seemed unbelievably arrogant. Well, that was Will the Author.

"'Distortion of masculinity?'" House asked. Everyone froze in place, hearing the utter disdain in House's voice.

"Well, yes. I mean, in today's society it has become acceptable for women to act like men, and for men to act like women. I'm not necessarily saying that that's a bad thing, but I still think there should be some traditional roles that we fulfill." Stacy and Cuddy shared a look that clearly expressed their displeasure.

"Watch out, Will, you're in a room with two very powerful women," Cameron said, trying to make a joke. No one laughed.

"I'm not saying that women can't be in positions of power, Allison," Will explained. Everyone picked up on the condescension in his voice, and turned to look at Cameron. She picked up her glass of wine and finished what was left. Without her asking, Wilson picked up the bottle and refilled her glass.

"What are you saying, then, _Billy_?" House was not going to give up.

"Right now, for instance, Allison is the one bringing in all the money. She's the breadwinner, and while she has certainly done that to help me, I don't want it to be like that forever. When my career really takes off, then she won't have to work. We can finally have the children that we've been talking about for years," Will replied, cheerfully patting Cameron's hand.

"What if she wants to work?" That question came from Cuddy. "I mean, we'd hate to lose her at the hospital."

"Well, I don't want my children to be raised by a nanny," Will scoffed. "If we're going to have children, then Allison's going to stay home. This book is really going to be something, I can tell you. Soon we'll be set." There was dead silence at the table, while Will just finished his green beans.

Cameron knew that her husband felt that way, but when he said it out loud, to _other people_, it sounded horrible. Before it had been some vague idea, but now it seemed real. How could he just expect her to give up her life? She wanted children, she couldn't deny that, but she didn't want them at the expense of everything else. The idea that this was his expectation of her brought tears to her eyes. When she thought about it, _really_ thought about it, she knew that this was her fault. For years she had just given into his demands and desires, happy to please him in any way she could. After all, he had nearly died, right? This was better than nothing, right?

When the tears threatened to fall, Cameron stood up and mumbled an excuse. She ran to the bathroom, slammed the door behind her, and sat on the rim of Cuddy's bathtub. Finally, she let herself cry, ignoring the possibility that she would be heard, or that the mascara was probably running down her face. She never heard the bathroom door open and close.

"You picked a real winner there, Cameron."

"House, what are you doing here?" Cameron asked, quickly grabbing a tissue and wiping her face. She stood up to face him. He frowned, looking at the stains on her cheeks and the redness of her eyes. Slowly, he brought his hand up, and for a moment Cameron thought he might touch her, but instead he rubbed his beard.

"Well, I'm just curious as to why you'd be such an idiot." He stepped closer to her, forcing her up against the sink.

"House, this is none of your business," Cameron said, blowing her nose.

"Oh, I beg to differ. I have every right to know that my employee is planning to leave her job in order to have lots of babies with Billy boy over there."

"House," Cameron pleaded. "House, please. I'm… That's not going to happen."

"Well, why does your _husband_ think differently?" Cameron had no immediate answer, and so House took another step closer to her. "Doesn't sound like you're communicating very well, does it? It would have been good to know that your husband was a misogynistic jerk, wouldn't it?" His voice was little more than a whisper, and the intimacy of the tone made Cameron's knees weaken. Her mouth opened slightly, and House noticed the widening of her eyes.

Another step closer. Their bodies were nearly touching; Cameron could feel the heat radiating off of his skin. House put his hands on the sink, on either side of Cameron's body. His right hand grazed her hip, and she closed her eyes, trying to ignore the treacherous coil of desire building in her body. Her skin burned where he had touched her, and she took a shaky breath.

"Why, Cameron, why?" Now House was whispering into her ear. His cheek was next to hers, millimeters away, and Cameron leaned into him. When their cheeks touched, Cameron heard House's sharp intake of breath. For a moment, they stood there, relishing the physical contact that they both had craved.

Slowly, House moved his head back, his beard scratching her cheek. When Cameron no longer felt his skin against hers, she whimpered softly, and leaned her face forward unconsciously. House looked into her eyes, his icy blue stare clouded with emotions: desire, pain, apprehension, fear, resignation, sadness, and something more indefinable.

He hesitated for a moment, but after seeming to make a decision, he leaned forward once more. House stopped with his lips a breath away from Cameron's. She noticed the return of his indecision.

"House…" she whispered. The desire in her voice was unmistakable, and seemed to penetrate House's last defenses. He took his right hand, and lifted her blouse ever so slightly, just enough so that he could caress her side. Cameron could feel the goosebumps rise on her skin, and she could hear her breath start to become ragged. "House," she whispered again, this time more urgently. House leaned forward, and their lips finally touched.

At that moment, there was a pounding on the bathroom door.

"Guys?" It was Wilson. House sighed, placing his forehead against Cameron's. They stood like that, both trying to control their breathing, until Wilson knocked again. Cameron panicked, and extricated herself from House's embrace. She threw open the door, and practically ran past Wilson.

House sighed, placing his hands on the sink again. He looked into the mirror, staring into his own eyes. His body still burned with the memory of Cameron's closeness.

"House?" Wilson asked. House remembered Cameron's voice as she whispered his name, urging him on.

_God damn it. _House raised a fist, and softly brought it down on the sink.


	9. The Dinner Party, Part II

**Disclaimer: I don't own House!**

**A/N: It's true, I love your reviews. I'm also still looking for a beta, if anyone's interested… Things are still heating up between our favorite couple, but it's never that easy, is it?  
**

* * *

CHAPTER 9

"House?" Wilson asked. For the past few minutes, the two had stood in complete silence. Ever since Cameron fled the scene, House had been staring into the mirror. "Uh, did I interrupt something?"

"What do you think?" House asked. He tried to insert some light-hearted mockery into his tone, but the only thing that came across was his frustration. Both men knew that that was the closest that House would ever be to saying yes. Wilson sighed, and ran a hand through his hair. He shook his head, not knowing what to say.

_What do I wish someone had said to me when I had…you know? _Wilson thought. _Don't be stupid? Stay with your wife? The situation seems complicated: House is an ass, but he isn't exactly a cheating ass. Cameron is a moral and loyal person, and moral and loyal people don't just cheat on their husbands for no reason. That meant…_ Wilson's eyes widened. Okay, so he knew Cameron's side of the story, if somewhat vaguely. Scratch that last part. He'd seen what a jerk her husband could be. But House's side of the story?

"House? You like her, don't you." It wasn't a question. House didn't dare reply, and instead only brought his fist softly down on the sink again. "You don't just desire her, you actually _like_ her."

"Of course I don't, Wilson." House brought his fist down a little harder this time. "That'd be pretty stupid, wouldn't it?" His fist hit the sink again with a loud thud. "I mean, look at the jerk that she married; can't say I approve much of her taste in men. Besides, I'm married, right?" He raised his fist and looked prepared to bring it down violently, but then he grabbed hold of himself and slowly brought his hand to his side. Wilson watched as House lowered his gaze to the floor.

"You know, House, it wouldn't necessarily be stupid, just unbelievably complicated." House smiled bitterly in response. "Because you _are_ married, you know. One way or another, you're going to have to deal with that." With that parting shot, Wilson returned to the dining room. He knew House would spend a while chewing that over, and if he decided he wanted to talk, Wilson would be ready. Maybe.

"Big trouble," Wilson mumbled to himself. "Huge, enormous, astronomically-large trouble."

* * *

Cameron ran back to the dining room, but took a moment to wipe her cheeks one last time before she went in. Stacy, Will, and Cuddy all looked up at the same time. Cameron avoided looking at Stacy at all costs. She wasn't quite ready for that; she wasn't sure she'd ever be ready for that. 

"Allison, did you see Greg?" Stacy asked.

"I think I saw him go into the bathroom a while ago. Maybe he and Wilson were having some special guy time," Cameron replied, talking mostly to her cold roast. Both Stacy and Cuddy chuckled. Will turned to Cameron and asked her under his breath,

"Are you all right? It wasn't very polite to leave so abruptly." Cameron clutched her knife and fork, desperately resisting the urge to stab him.

"I'm fine. I just remembered that I had to make a phone call, and it really couldn't wait," she explained. Will nodded, though still appeared unconvinced. He glanced at Cuddy and Stacy, clearly to make sure that they were chatting and not listening, and said,

"Your boss is a real prick."

"No, he's not. In fact, I would say that tonight you were the prick." Will was stunned into silence. When he recovered himself, he replied coldly,

"Allison, we shall not have this discussion here. We'll wait until we get home to continue this." With that condescending remark, he turned to Cuddy and Stacy and struck up a conversation.

_Home…_ Cameron thought. _It doesn't feel like home with him. Home, House…_ She shook her head, trying will away any thoughts of her boss. Her _married_ boss._ Will wasn't always like this. What happened? Where did it go wrong? _She frowned. _At what point am I finally going to accept that this is over?_ Suddenly she felt her chest growing tight, and took a few deep breaths in an effort to calm herself down.

At that moment, however, Wilson returned, with House only a few steps behind him. The second that House was in the room, Cameron felt her breath catch in her throat and felt the hairs on the back of her neck stand straight up. She couldn't help herself; she had to look at him. He caught her staring at him, and she saw his features soften ever so slightly. He sat down, still holding the eye contact. Cameron's grip on her knife relaxed, and she completely forgot about her food. As far as they were both concerned, there was no one in the room except each other.

"Greg, honey?" Stacy placed a hand on House's arm, drawing him out of his reverie. She shot Cameron a confused look.

"What?" he asked.

"Lisa was just telling me about this great Chinese restaurant she found. I was thinking we should go tomorrow and get some take-out. How does that sound?" Her hand never left House's arm. When Cameron caught Stacy sending her a look, Cameron knew that it was a blatant marking of territory. _Oh, why did she mention Chinese?_ Cameron lamented. _The dumpling, the god damned dumpling._

"Lisa?" Cameron asked, her voice shaking audibly. "This dinner was so delicious, I really appreciate you cooking for us. I was wondering if I could do some dishes for you as a bit of a thank you." Cuddy looked pointedly at Cameron's abandoned roast, but when she saw the pleading in her eyes, she nodded.

"You certainly don't have to, Allison, but of course I would appreciate it. No one likes doing dishes," Cuddy said, trying to lighten the mood. It had easily been the most awkward dinner party she had ever thrown.

"Great!" Cameron exclaimed, immediately standing up and grabbing her plate. She took Will's and Wilson's plates as well, for good measure.

The kitchen and the dining room were separated by a swinging door, which Cameron opened with her hip. When it finally closed, she started to clean plates, hoping to get her mind off of things.

* * *

House watched Cameron go, trying to ignore the disappointment he felt. Stacy's hand had still not left his arm, and he did not want to handle that right now. So, he did what any doctor would do in an awkward situation. 

He faked a page.

Reaching for his pager rather dramatically, House yelled a loud, "Damn!" and pretended to look at the message. "It's Chase," he explained. "He's monitoring our patient tonight, and probably just _needs_ to tell me something completely useless. I'll be right back." House stood up, pretending to reach for his cell phone. But he didn't go to the living room, or the hall; he went to the kitchen.

Cameron's head whipped around when she heard the door open, and she was surprised to see House standing there. She put the dishes down and turned off the water in the sink, then tried to shake some water off of her hands. He was staring at her again, as intensely as he did in the bathroom.

"House, wha…" The moment the kitchen door stopped swinging, House launched forward. He forced her up against the counter, placing his hands on either side of her body. Exactly where they left off. But this time, there was no hesitation.

He kissed her roughly, his beard scratching her chin and cheeks. Cameron was so shocked that for a moment she didn't respond, but then she opened her mouth slightly, which was all the invitation House needed. She heard a possessive growl come from the back of his throat, and then he drew her closer, melding her body against his. He was so caught up in the moment, that when he ground his hips against hers he did so with such force that he pushed her hard against the counter. Cameron whimpered as the pain shot up her back. But even that turned quickly to pleasure as he roughly drew up her blouse to finally touch her soft skin. At that first skin-to-skin contact, their exploration grew more frenzied. Her still-wet hands wandered over his chest, until she finally brought them to the back of his neck, drawing him closer to her. Their teeth crashed together as House's hand lightly grazed the underside of her breast.

Then, in a flash, it was over. A fraction of a second before the kitchen door swung open, House jumped away from Cameron.

"Chase was thinking it could be neurological, which only proves just how dumb he is. I decided to entertain him, though, and told him to run a few tests," House said, acting as if nothing had ever happened. Cameron, breath still ragged, turned to see who had come in.

It was Will. She knew she should feel guilty, having nearly been caught kissing her married boss by her own husband, but she was just angry that he interrupted.

"These are the rest of the plates," he said, handing Cameron the plates. Without another word, he turned around and left. She wondered briefly if he knew what had just happened, but of course he didn't. Both Cameron and House watched the door as Cameron tried to blindly place the dishes in the sink. The moment the door closed, their bodies slammed together, irresistibly drawn to the other.

This time, however, it was Cameron who pushed House up against the counter. He smiled against her lips.

"I like you like this," he said.

"Shut up."

Cameron was happy House had decided not to wear a button-down tonight, because she easily lifted his t-shirt and placed both hands lightly against his waist. Now the pace was slower; House took his time kissing her, his restraint driving her absolutely wild. His hand cupped her cheek as he reached underneath her blouse and put his hand against her back to press her closer to him. There was an unexpectedly intimate moment when House softly rubbed his thumb against her cheek. Cameron sighed contentedly.

Then he pushed her away. The door swung open just as House turned to face the counter.

"Of course I told him he was idiot!" They both glanced in the direction of the door, noticing Wilson standing with the plate of roast. He took in Cameron's flushed cheeks and ragged breathing, as well as the small patches of wetness on House's chest. Wilson was many things, but he wasn't an idiot.

"Am I going to be doing this often? Can you guys give me some warning?" Both Cameron and House had the decency to look sheepish. He nodded to House. "Your shirt is wet." House absently wiped his shirt. Again, Cameron was the first to flee the scene of the crime. "Will you at least help me with the dishes?" he asked House. House nodded, moving to the sink.

* * *

It was no surprise to anyone there that the guests began to leave as soon as dessert was finished. Will and Cameron were the first to leave, while House glowered at Will's hand placed possessively against Cameron's back. Stacy, becoming more and more frustrated as the night went on, tried her best to take a polite leave of Cuddy, but barely succeeded. She slammed the door behind her, not even waiting for House to follow her. House frowned and reached for the doorknob. 

"House, you don't have a patient." It was Cuddy. Without turning around, House replied,

"I know." He heard Cuddy sigh.

"Stacy's my friend," she said. There was a slight pause. "So is Allison." House nodded and opened the door.

* * *

Cameron stayed absolutely silent for the entire car ride, her thoughts focused on her various encounters with House. Never in her life had she felt as alive as she had in those hurried moments. She would give anything to relive them. 

But she couldn't. She sighed when she unlocked the door to apartment, Will following a step behind her.

"Allison," he started.

"Stop, I don't want to hear it."

"No, you're going to listen. I'm absolutely mortified that you behaved like that tonight."

"Like _what_, Will?" she spat out.

"Like a child, Allison. You stormed out of dinner not once but twice, and even tried to argue with me in front of our hostess, not to mention your boss' wife." He was even speaking to her as if he thought she was a child. Cameron finally reached her boiling point.

"And you want to know why I was so angry? Do you? Because I'm more than happy to tell you. I'm 'mortified' that you decided to share your misogynistic views with my friends, telling them that I would soon be quitting my job to become a full-time mother. Well, I'm telling you right now that I love my job and under no circumstances whatsoever am I going to give it up. I want children, Will, but this is the twenty first century. I can do both, and for that matter, so can you."

"Oh, and what are you going to do? Leave our kids in day care all day long, and have some babysitter pick them up when you have to spend all night with a patient? What then?" Despite the fact that Cameron's voice was continually rising in both pitch and volume, Will was calm, completely confident and self-righteous.

"How about _you_ pick them up? How about _you _bring in some money? How about _you_ pick up groceries, do the laundry, or pay the bills? How about that, Will?"

"I'm not going to talk to you about this right now, you're clearly not thinking straight," Will said, turning to walk to the bedroom. Cameron placed her body in front of him, stopping him with a hand on his chest.

"No, that's not how it works. You don't get to decide everything. I'm thinking perfectly straight, probably the straightest I've been thinking for a while. Because, honestly, if I had been thinking straight before, I would have kicked your sorry ass out a while ago."

"You don't mean that," Will scoffed.

"Yes, I do. I've done everything I could to make you happy, to support you. But you always want more, Will." Cameron's voice softened. "You want more and more, and you're never willing to give anything back. It's never about what I want, it's always about what you want. For a while, I thought that was okay; I thought that was how things worked. But not anymore, Will, and it never will be again. So, either things change or I'm done with this."

"With what?" For the first time, Will seemed uncertain.

"With us. I'm not putting up with this anymore." She stormed off to the bedroom, slamming the door behind her. If Will even _thought_ about sleeping in their bed tonight, she would… Cameron sat down on the bed, sighing. She didn't know what she would do, about that or anything else. Without undressing, she lay down on the bed. "House…" she whispered.

* * *

Stacy's jaw was clenched; that was never a good sign. But House certainly wasn't going to be the first one to speak. 

"Greg, is there anything we need to talk about?" she asked. Her hands gripped the steering wheel until her knuckles turned white. House hesitated for a moment.

"No," he replied. _Was there? _he thought. _A few stolen kisses don't necessarily mean anything_.

"Well, you know that you can talk to me about anything, Greg. _Anything_." She placed special emphasis on the last word, giving him a pointed look.

"Not everything," he said. Stacy opened her mouth to say something, and then shut it closed. House sighed and placed his head against the cool glass, staring out the window at the passing lights.

"I just hope that if you were unhappy with me, or if there was something you think we should work on, you would let me know."

"Is it that simple, Stacy?" House sounded tired, even to his own ears. Stacy made a small noise, and a stealthy peek by House revealed that there were tears in her eyes. The guilt began to weigh heavily on his shoulders. He would give anything to be back in that kitchen with Cameron; he would give even more to be in that kitchen with Cameron with no one else in the house.

_Cameron…_


	10. Aftermath

**Disclaimer: I don't own House!**

**A/N: You guys are truly awesome. Thanks to all those who have reviewed; it really makes my day. I'm going to keep trying to update as quickly as possible, but I've (kinda, sorta, maybe, somewhat) been neglecting my thesis. **

* * *

CHAPTER 10

Monday was going to be awkward. Wilson knew it. In fact, he was absolutely positive. He just didn't have a clue about how to deal with it. Perhaps the best idea would be to stay as far away as humanly possible. No, that wouldn't work. After all, his office was right next to House's.

Sighing, Wilson unlocked the door to his office. At least it was still too early for House to be around. He'd have some time to make up his game plan. The moment he hung his coat up, however, there was a knock on his door. _Here we go…_

He was somewhat surprised to see Stacy on the other side.

"James," she said in greeting. Wilson didn't respond, but stepped to the side, so she could come in.

"What can I do for you, Stacy?" he asked, walking over to the couch. In preparation for a long conversation, Wilson found himself a comfortable position to sit in. For about a minute, Stacy paced back and forth. Then she stopped dead in her tracks.

"Is Greg having an affair?" She didn't even turn to look at Wilson.

"Not that I know of," Wilson replied carefully. Stacy sighed and plopped down next to him on the couch.

"I know it's kind of silly, but I just couldn't get over how he was looking at Allison at Lisa's on Saturday. I mean, it was…it was something I've never seen before. I spent most of the time there trying to convince myself it was just because he hated her husband so much. Will was definitely a jerk, wasn't he?" Wilson nodded.

"No argument from me there," he responded.

"But, it's all I've been able to think about since then. Every time she left the room, he followed her, and they were alone for… I don't want to put you in an awkward position, James, but I have to know if you saw anything. Please," she pleaded. Wilson sighed.

"No, Stacy, I didn't see anything," he said. It wasn't exactly a lie, because he didn't actually _see_ anything happen. It was just heavily implied. No need to tell Stacy that her husband _may_ have been playing Seven Minutes in Heaven with Cameron. "But you should know, Stacy, that it would never be my place to tell you anything like that in the first place. If something ever happened, though, I would certainly urge House to talk to you. I can't promise you more than that."

"Do you think you'll have to have that conversation with him, James?" Wilson sometimes forgot that Stacy was a lawyer. She was going to try to get information out of him by any means necessary. Wilson hated to lie, but, in this case, he didn't think twice.

"I don't think so." Stacy sighed and leaned her head against the back of the couch.

"I just have a feeling, James, that you're lying to me." Wilson had no immediate response, so she continued. "I can see why, though. Of course you can't tell me anything, especially since she's, well, since she's a friend too, isn't she? Both you and Lisa have been walking on egg shells around me, and I can only assume that you two know something that I don't, either directly or indirectly. Maybe nothing _has_happened, but then that means that the two of you think something_will_." Wilson filed away the fact that Cuddy apparently knew something was up as well.

"Stacy, come on."

"No, James. How am I supposed to sleep next to him at night, wondering if he's been touching another woman? How am I supposed to go to a girls' night with her and act like nothing's going on? Am I just supposed to play the dumb, blind wife? That's not how this works." She stood up to leave, which only left Wilson with his final trump card.

"And how has your marriage been up to now, Stacy? Good? Is this the first problem?" Stacy turned around, glaring at Wilson.

"You know that Greg is difficult; of course we've had problems in the past. This is different, though."

"Have you been happy? Answer honestly." Stacy crossed her arms over her chest and looked up at the ceiling. "Think about it," Wilson counseled. "Come back when you're ready with a real answer, and not just the knee-jerk reaction." He stood up and stuck his hands in his pockets. "Then maybe you'll think about how he feels." Stacy nodded once, her features softening. Without another word, she turned and fled the room. Wilson ran his hand through his hair.

* * *

Less than twenty minutes later, there was another knock on his door.

"Come in!" he called out. _Time for round two, everyone…_ Cameron stuck her head inside, and asked,

"Do you have time for a quick chat?" Wilson nodded. She smiled and closed the door quietly behind her. "So, I think I'm going to leave my husband."

"For House?" Wilson asked, the words tumbling from his lips before he got a chance to think about it. Cameron shot him a withering look.

"Of course not. I'd be leaving him for me, Wilson. I'm not that stupid."

"Well, you have to admit that it comes on the heels of…" he stopped, waving his arm around him, "Whatever it was that you did on Saturday night." Cameron blushed and looked down at the floor.

"Honestly? That's part of it. I never felt so amazing, so happy." She smiled tenderly, and the look on her face told Wilson everything. Deep down, he just hoped that House would never, ever let that look leave her face. "But I also know that it would be really stupid to leave my husband on the off-chance that my boss will leave his wife for me. I mean, in the end, House and I don't know each other that well, do we? We could spend a week together, and end up hating each other. Then where would we be? No, I know things don't work like that." She sighed. "You were right that night we were in the car when you told me that I had to _want_ to work on my marriage for it to work. What last Saturday showed me was that I don't want to. The idea of a life without Will is somewhat scary, if only because I've been with him for so long, but it is also exciting, because for the first time in a long time it will be _mine_."

"I'm…happy for you, Cameron. I don't say that every time a friend tells me that she is going to get a divorce, but I do mean it." Cameron smiled.

"Thanks. I'm happy, too. I was just wondering if you had any advice for me about how to go about all of this."

"Why me?" Wilson asked innocently. Cameron just raised an eyebrow in response. "Oh! You mean, because I've already been through three divorces? I get it now!" He fumbled for his wallet, and pulled out a business card. "Here, this is my divorce lawyer. He's really great at what he does."

"You keep your divorce lawyer's business card in your wallet?" Wilson thought about that for a moment.

"You know, it sounds much more pathetic when you put it like that."

"Well, you're never going to get in Cuddy's pants with an attitude like this. I'm not going to give this back to you." Cameron was the most upbeat that Wilson had ever seen her. It was only now that he could see the negative effect that her husband had on her. He only hoped that no one else would do that to her…

* * *

Around lunchtime, Wilson was ready for round three. To his great surprise, however, it wasn't House who barged in, demanding that Wilson buy him lunch. Instead, it was Cuddy. 

"Cuddy?"

"Wilson, hi. Listen, do you have a minute?"

"Sure, uh, well, I was just about to go get lunch. Do you, uh, want to come with?" Wilson motioned awkwardly to the door.

"Oh. Oh, okay. I mean, what I want to talk about might not be so great to talk about in public." Cuddy started to move towards the door, but then stopped.

"Really? We can stay here, then. Uh, what is it?" Wilson sat down on his couch, and crossed his legs.

"House," Cuddy said. She gave Wilson a strange look, and sat down next to him.

"Oh, I'm sure I can see where this is going."

"Did you see Allison today?" Cuddy asked. Wilson nodded and leaned back against the couch.

"I did. She seemed…"

"Happy? She seemed happy, didn't she?" Cuddy interrupted, frowning.

"Well, I'm not sure if I should be telling you this, but she decided to leave her husband. So, I think she was happy because of _that_," Wilson said. "What's this really about, Cuddy?"

"That was by far the most awkward dinner party I've ever thrown. I mean, first House is a jackass to Cameron's husband. Then Cameron's husband is a jackass to Cameron, and finally House and Cameron both disappear,_together_, various times. Stacy is angry, you're caught in the middle, and I'm frustrated because I bought some nice bottles of wine that were just completely unappreciated." Wilson wasn't sure where Cuddy was going with this, but she relaxed a bit as she continued to speak, so he didn't want to interrupt. "I'm sending House and his team to Vienna for a conference."

"Vienna, Austria?" Wilson asked, somewhat incredulously. Cuddy nodded, pursing her lips.

"There's a week-long diagnostics conference, and it's a pretty big deal. Basically, I need some representatives there. I'm happy to get House out of my hair for a week, and with his team, I get three people who will actually mingle and network with other doctors." Cuddy smiled sadly at Wilson. He narrowed his eyes, still not sure where this was going.

"So, what's the downside?"

"House didn't have a patient on Saturday night. He faked a page, Wilson. He faked a page to follow Cameron into another room. I'm not stupid, you know. They were making eyes at each other all night, so it's hard not to leap to certain conclusions. Now that I hear that Cameron's leaving her husband, I don't know what to think."

"What does this have to do with the conference?"

"Cameron and House will be alone in another country for a week. Stacy's my friend, and I _know_ that she thinks something is up. Honestly, I don't know what exactly is going on, but something is, Wilson. I'm just…" she shrugged, not sure what to say.

"You're worried that if something happens while they're in Austria, you'll feel responsible?" Wilson sighed, finally understanding. He turned towards Cuddy, and grabbed her restless hand. "Listen, if House and Cameron…you know, if they…have an affair, that's _their_ decision. They're both grownups, they know the consequences of their actions. But you can't punish one or both of them because of what _may_ happen. If you lived by those rules all the time, you wouldn't let House in the door."

"You're right; I know you are. But for some reason, I'm still hesitant." Cuddy didn't remove her hand from Wilson's grasp. He squeezed it once.

"I know, and I understand. Everything happens for a reason, though," Wilson said, shrugging. "That sounds corny, I know, but I happen to think it's true." Cuddy was staring at Wilson, but he couldn't figure out what that look meant.

"You said something about lunch?" she asked, reluctantly extricating her hand from Wilson's grip and standing up. "Let's go to the cafeteria."

"Okay," Wilson said, smiling.

* * *

Round four, otherwise known as Greg House, never showed up. It took Wilson most of the afternoon to interrogate the nurses and find out that House had been wandering the hospital looking for Cameron. When told this little tidbit for the tenth time, Wilson sighed. Defeated, he decided to head back to his office. But on his way there he saw something interesting.

* * *

House had finally cornered Cameron in the lab.

"You're avoiding me," he accused. Cameron looked up from the microscope, her heart beginning to pound at the mere sound of his voice. He looked amused, though the constant tapping of his cane against the floor indicated restlessness.

"Am not," she replied.

"Are too," he countered. House walked up to the counter, and leaned his hip against it. "Now, what reason would you have to avoid me? Can you think of any?" House's sudden proximity was somewhat distracting to Cameron. She could only think of how it felt to lift his shirt and…

"If I was _actually_ avoiding you, I might have a reason." Cameron wouldn't let herself think about Saturday night and how he had… "Damn it," she said out loud.

"I beg your pardon?" House asked. "Did you just _swear_?"

"I'm leaving my husband, House." That got him to shut up. The amused look on his face completely dropped and was replaced by something much more enigmatic. But Cameron looked into his eyes, and saw what she knew she would see: fear. "Don't worry, it's not because of you." She looked into the microscope once more. "I'm not that stupid."

"What was it that finally convinced you that he was a jerk?"

"It was a long line of revelations, honestly. But I'm going to talk to him in the next few days and sort everything out."

"You haven't talked to him yet?" House asked, the mocking lilt to his voice returning once more.

"No, but I'm absolutely decided." And she was. She'd spent all of last night googling "divorce" and reading everything she could. "What to do when you're in love with your married boss" had not been such a fruitful Google search. "I just need to find the right time to talk to him. Tonight he has a dinner with his editor, and I'm staying late to help out in the ER."

"The ER? What'd you do to deserve that? Don't tell me, I'm going to guess that someone didn't want to miss their little girl's first dance recital, so you offered to cover part of their shift. Am I right?" When Cameron didn't answer, House threw his arms up in the air. "Victory is mine!" Cameron had to bite her lip in an effort not to smile, but House noticed the slight upturning of the corners of her mouth. "So, is Billy-Willy's editor some hot, unbelievably flexible woman who is just _waiting_ to find the right man to settle down with and have lots of babies with so she doesn't have to work? Because if that's the case, you might want to head home early."

"She is a woman, but I'm not going to go home early." House didn't miss the warning tone in Cameron's voice, and surprisingly backed off.

"Well, maybe it'd be another man you'd have to worry about, anyway."

"That would explain a few things," Cameron said wryly. House's eyebrows shot up. _What an idiot, _House thought, _if she was my wife I'd be…_ He shook his head, not wanting his mind to wander in that direction. "What are you doing here, House?"

"As I said earlier, you're avoiding me. I just came to figure out why."

"I needed some time to think," she replied. House was surprised that she was being honest. "The past week has been…interesting, to say the least. I'm still trying to figure out how to have the whole, 'Hi honey, how about a divorce?' conversation." House was completely silent, not sure what to say. He didn't know how to have that conversation either.

"I don't know what to say," House said, ostensibly responding to her last statement. But they both knew that he was referring to something else entirely.

"Neither do I," Cameron agreed, sighing. "Maybe it'd be best to not say anything at all." She turned to him and spoke softly. "Maybe it'd be best to pretend nothing ever happened." In response, House moved to the back of her chair.

"Let me see what you've got here," he said. Cameron's breath caught in her throat as he put one hand on the back of her chair, and the other on the counter. He leaned forward to peer into the microscope, and their shoulders brushed ever so slightly. She hadn't been able to move since he'd approached her chair, and so now when he turned towards her, their faces were only inches apart. House absently noticed the flecks of gray in her eyes, but he concentrated more on her dilating pupils. Cameron nearly jumped a foot in the air when his thumb lightly grazed her back. She might not have felt it had her senses not been running on overload. That one touch nearly sent her over the edge.

"Pretend nothing ever happened?" House asked, his voice deepening.

"It's probably for the best," Cameron responded breathlessly.

"Okay," House said, standing up and walking to the door. Right before he left, however, he paused on the threshold. "I'm not sure I can do that." Then he was gone. Cameron could only stare at the spot where had stood.

* * *

House turned a corner, smirking to himself. He stopped dead in his tracks when he saw a smug-looking James Wilson leaning against the wall with his arms crossed over his chest. In that moment, House knew that Wilson saw what happened in the lab.

"Shut up," he said. Wilson smirked.


	11. Falling

**Disclaimer: I don't own House!**

**A/N: Over 70 reviews?!? You guys are amazing. I read every one of them, and I appreciate them all. I wish I could spend more time responding to each one. This chapter is basically all drama. **

* * *

CHAPTER 11

"Hold still, or I'll never be able to finish these sutures," Cameron said to a squirming patient. Three hours was more than enough time in the ER as far as she was concerned. A full day with House, and then a shift in the ER? Who was she kidding? "All right, you're all set," she said, smiling. The patient returned the smile gratefully as Cameron took off her medical gloves with a snap.

"Dr. Cameron!" someone called out. She looked up, confused.

"Dr. Miller? I thought I was covering your whole shift." The other doctor waved away Cameron's concerns.

"I thought so too," he said, "but my daughter's play didn't last very long, and we already had dinner. It was nice of you to cover just this much of my shift for me. I know you work for House, so I figure you need all the rest you can get." Miller smiled at Cameron. "Go, go! Off with you!"

"Are you sure?" Cameron asked, despite the fact that she would like nothing better than to get out of here.

"Positive," Miller said. "I owe you one."

"Well, only if you're sure," Cameron said, still hesitating.

"What is wrong with you? Get out of here!" Miller asked, laughing.

"Okay! Okay! I'm gone!" Cameron left the ER with a smile on her face.

* * *

She knew Will wasn't expecting her home until late, but she was hoping to talk to him about a divorce, or, at the very least, a separation. On the way up the stairs to her apartment, she fiddled with her wedding ring. This morning, Cameron had taken off her ring, and kept it in her lab coat pocket. Now she was hesitating to put it back on. Her hand had looked rather nice without it. But it was only for a little while longer, right?

With a sigh, she threw open the door to her apartment. Immediately, she knew that something was off. On the coffee table were two wine glasses, both of them used. A woman's jacket was carelessly thrown on a chair in the kitchen. Cameron took a quick peek down the hallway to the bedroom, and saw clothes strewn about, obviously taken off in haste.

She thought she might be sick. Her heart plummeted to her stomach, and she felt dizzy. House's teasing words from that afternoon came back to her.

"_So, is Billy-Willy's editor some hot, unbelievably flexible woman who is just waiting to find the right man to settle down with and have lots of babies with so she doesn't have to work? Because if that's the case, you might want to head home early."_

"Oh, God," she whispered, slowly following the trail of clothes. Though the door to the bedroom was open only a sliver, a thick ray of light illuminated a woman's black, lacy bra. "Oh, God, oh, oh, God," Cameron kept whispering. She couldn't stop the flow of words from coming as she approached the door. When she reached for the handle with her left hand, her wedding ring glinted, blinding her momentarily.

The door seemed to open of its own volition. What Cameron saw, unfortunately, was exactly what she expected. There was Will with, Cameron could only guess, his editor in a most compromising position.

"Will?" Cameron asked, incredulous and hurt. Will's head shot up. When he saw Cameron at the doorway, he immediately reached for the sheets to cover himself up.

"Allie!" he yelped. "Uh…" Cameron waited for a moment, just to see if he would defend himself. He said nothing, but continued to sit on the bed, panicking.

"Forget it. I'm leaving," Cameron said. She ran down the hallway. As she picked up her purse and keys, she could hear Will's voice behind her, calling her name. She picked up her pace, and ran down the stairs. Her legs didn't seem to be working too well at the moment, however, and she fell down the last five or so steps. Cameron put her hands out to break her fall. Immediately she felt the pain shoot up her arm.

"Allie?" Will called out. He was standing at the top of the stairs, still clutching the sheet to his body. For a moment Cameron hesitated, the memory of buying those sheets flashing through her head. Then, without a word, she picked herself up and ran to her car. "Allie!"

She miraculously managed to put her keys in the ignition, and sighed in relief when her car roared to life.

* * *

Wilson was in the middle of cooking a late dinner when he heard the knock on his door. For a brief moment, he considered pretending he wasn't home, but when the knocking continued, curiosity got the better of him.

"Cameron?" The woman standing on the other side of the door certainly _resembled_ Cameron, but she looked horrible. She'd obviously been crying, her hair was mussed, and she was shaking. "What the Hell happened to you?"

In response, Cameron started to cry. Wilson took her arm, and brought her inside. He shut the door, unsure of what to do next. When he heard Cameron's sniffles, though, he hesitantly put his arms around her. Cameron gratefully put her arms around him, sobbing. Wilson knew enough about women to know that he wasn't going to get any information out of her until she calmed down, so he stood there, holding her, until her sobs devolved into small hiccups.

"Cameron? Cameron? Tell me what happened." He put his hand on the small of her back, and ushered her to the couch. She sat down, and immediately brought her knees to her chest.

"Will," she said.

"What about him?"

"I was supposed to be home late tonight, Wilson," she started, though Wilson could already see where this was going. He leaned back, trying to prepare himself for what was to come. "I was covering for someone in the ER, but he came back early and told me to go home. So, I did. Will was supposed to have dinner with his editor. It…I don't know what happened, but I came home and saw…I saw the wine glasses. We'd…someone gave them to us when we were married. There were clothes leading to the bedroom, and I followed them…" she stopped for a moment. "He was with his editor," she finished simply.

"And they weren't talking about commas and periods, I take it," Wilson said. Tears returned to Cameron's eyes, and she shook her head. "I'm so sorry, Cameron."

"Me too. I mean, I was going to talk to him about a separation or a divorce, but I didn't want things to end like this, never like this. We haven't been happy, Wilson, I know that. I wasn't happy. But, how could he do this? Why did he…" She covered her face with her hands, her shoulders shaking as she cried once more. "I'm so sorry," she stammered. "I tried to call Cuddy, but she didn't answer. And I couldn't go to…This was the only place I could think to go."

"It's okay, Cameron, I don't mind," he replied softly, tentatively putting a hand on her back.

"I just never would have…" she began. Wilson watched as her eyes widened. "Yes, I would have. I would have cheated on Will, Wilson. I would have done the same to him, wouldn't I?"

"Would you?" he asked, keeping his voice low and calm.

"Yes! House! I would have slept with House, if only…" she trailed off, shaking her head. "I don't know. I don't think I would have slept with him while I was still married. But it somehow feels different than this, you know?" Cameron frowned. "How could that woman sleep with a married man?" She lowered her head to her knees. "If I slept with House, then I would be _that_ woman. Stacy would be me. It's all wrong, don't you see?" When Cameron started to cry once more, Wilson tried to shush her.

"Cameron, Cameron, come on. You're not thinking straight right now; you've just been through something pretty traumatic. You really need to get some rest," he softly rubbed her back with one hand. She nodded, and lifted her head. However, when she put her hands down by her sides in an effort to push herself up, she grimaced. "Wait, what happened?" Wilson asked.

"I fell down the stairs."

"What? Stand up, and tell me where it hurts."

"Well, my wrists, mostly, and my knees," Cameron explained, still sniffling. Wilson quickly examined her injuries, noticing her wincing when he touched her right wrist.

"Okay, your right wrist may be sprained. It's pretty swollen regardless, so I'm going to get you some ice, and then I'm going to tape it up, okay?" Wilson made sure to look Cameron in the eye, so he knew that she was paying attention. His famous bedside manner insured that she had indeed understood, and had even begun to calm down.

After returning with ice and bandages, Wilson found Cameron on the couch, staring off into the distance.

"Cameron?" he whispered. She turned to look at him.

"I'm okay," she said, a tentative smile on her face. "I'm tired."

"I think that's pretty reasonable," he replied.

"I don't want to do this to Stacy." That sentences stopped Wilson in his tracks.

"What do you mean?" Wilson asked carefully.

"I need time," she explained, as if Wilson was supposed to know exactly what she meant.

"I don't understand."

"My life is a mess. I mean, I go home with the purpose of telling my husband that I don't want to be married to him anymore, and I catch him in bed with another woman. I'm very, very attracted to my married boss, but he is not very likely to leave his wife anytime soon, so if I ever _act_ on that attraction, then I'm an adulterer, a _mistress_. Where does this all leave me?" She lifted her wrist. "Apparently, all I'm left with is a sprained wrist. Doesn't seem fair, does it?"

"Unfortunately, life isn't always fair," Wilson replied, taking her wrist and beginning to wrap it. Cameron's thoughts weren't all too cohesive at the moment, but he could tell that she just needed to talk.

"But Will couldn't have loved that woman. How could he? It just doesn't make any sense."

"Would that bother you?"

"I don't know, to tell you the truth. Maybe I'd feel better about it, though, if I knew that he at least had a reason _other_ than: he just can't keep it in his pants." Wilson smiled at the return of some life to Cameron's tone. "How is it possible to be both the good guy and the bad guy at the same time?" she asked Wilson, completely serious.

"What do you mean?" He was afraid he was going to be asking this question all night.

"Well, in my marriage, Will's the bad guy, and I'm the good guy, at least if we ignore the kissing in Cuddy's kitchen. But, at the same time, Stacy's the good guy, and _I'm_ the bad guy. Why can't it just be clear cut?"

"It's not, Cameron; it's never that clear cut. Your marriage with Will wasn't working out, and it was wrong for him to sleep with someone else, but it wasn't completely his fault that you two got to this point. You weren't standing up for yourself; you weren't telling him how you felt. You let him believe that the way he was treating you was okay, and it wasn't. Sure, he should have realized that, too, but _you_ should have said something. With House and Stacy, well, I don't know. I don't think that House would take cheating on Stacy very lightly."

"Then why did he kiss me?" Cameron's voice was barely above a whisper.

"That is the ten-million dollar question, I'm afraid." Wilson continued to bandage Cameron's wrist in silence. "Keep the ice on," he instructed. "How about I give you my bed to sleep on, and I'll sleep on the couch out here. How does that sound?"

"No, no, I can't…"

"Yes, you can. Come on, you need some sleep." Cameron stood up, and followed Wilson to his bedroom. "Do you want something to sleep in?" he asked.

"No, it's okay. I think I'm just going to sleep like this," she replied, already slipping under the covers. Wilson nodded, and turned to leave the room. "So, I need to stand up for myself more often?" she asked.

"Only when you need to," he answered.

"I just need some time," she repeated. "I need to be by myself."

* * *

Wilson was desperate for some coffee by the time he made it to the hospital the next morning. He'd already had a cup at home, but the travails of last night had certainly taken their toll. Once satisfied that Cameron was still sleeping, he'd slipped out of the house, making sure to call Cuddy and Foreman as soon as he could. He called Cuddy to make sure that Cameron could stay with her for as long as she needed, if she needed to, and he called Foreman to ask him if he would accompany Cameron to her apartment. She'd probably want clothes at some point, and he didn't want her going alone. Neither Chase nor House seemed like the right person to send her with. Wilson was just assuming she wouldn't want to go back to her apartment, and sleep in the bed in which she'd found Will.

As Wilson was waiting in line in the cafeteria for some decent coffee, House accosted him.

"Where the Hell is everyone this morning? Cameron isn't coming in, Foreman's off on 'errands,' _you're_ late, and Cuddy's storming the halls." Wilson gave his order, and House made sure to order himself a coffee as well, on Wilson's tab. "Why are you so tired, anyway?" James Wilson was not a cruel man, but he waited until House was sipping his coffee before replying,

"Cameron spent the night last night." The patience paid off, because House choked on his coffee. Wilson stood quietly until House finished coughing.

"She _what_?" There was no missing the anger in House's tone as he stormed down the hall towards his office.

"Last night, she showed up on my doorstep, crying. Apparently she caught her husband in bed with another woman, and, while running away from the scene, fell down the stairs and sprained her wrist." He made sure to watch House's face during every word, but Wilson couldn't be sure what exactly it was that he saw. Anger was definitely there, but a few other emotions were as well. Worry? Pain?

"How is she?" House asked, his voice dangerously low.

"You know," Wilson replied, shrugging. "She's upset, she's hurt, and she's a little lost. I think she needs a little time to herself." They had reached House's office door. House nodded, and without another word, went into his office. For a moment, Wilson considered following him, but he knew House needed to be alone.

* * *

House didn't stop in his office, but instead stalked out to the balcony that he and Wilson shared. The April air was crisp and refreshing, but he barely noticed. All he could think about was Cameron. Cameron, Cameron, Cameron. He imagined what she must have felt when she saw her husband in bed with another woman. He imagined the look of shock on her face. He imagined her so upset that she couldn't walk downstairs properly. He imagined her falling hard to the ground. That last image was the one he couldn't get out of his head. Over and over again, she fell in his mind, the breath whooshing out of her as she hit the ground. House closed his eyes, imagining that the brisk breeze was Cameron's breath at that crucial moment.

Frustrated, House lowered his head, rubbing his face with one hand. How could that jackass betray her? How could he not appreciate what he had? How could he let her get away? Will might as well have pushed her down the stairs himself.

He imagined it in slow motion this time: Cameron's face as she falls down the stairs, her hair whipping behind her. She thrusts her hands forward, desperately hoping to break her fall. Her breath catching in her throat when she realizes that she's going to hit the ground hard. The look on her face as pain shoots up her arm at the moment of impact. The sound of her breath leaving her body, robbing her of the ability to cry out. Then he saw himself at the top of the stairs, arms stretched out. This time, _he_ had pushed her.

What was it that Wilson had said? _"I think she needs a little time to herself."_ House knew that Wilson was right.

Suddenly enraged, House grabbed his cane and smashed it against the wall. When it didn't break at first, he continued to smash it over and over until it broke into several pieces. Breathing heavily, House looked around him. Wilson stood at the door to his office, watching House. They held eye contact for a moment, until Wilson shook his head. House turned away and limped into his office.


	12. Moving Forward, or Trying to

**Disclaimer: I don't own House. Still.**

**A/N: Your support is amazing, guys. I really appreciate it; it really keeps me going. Sorry this took a few days to get up, but it's been a bit crazy.**

* * *

CHAPTER 12

Cameron was glad that Wilson sent Foreman with her that morning to pick up some of her belongings from the apartment. Will had tried to talk to her as soon she opened the door, but once he saw Foreman, he quieted down a bit. She took a peek at Foreman's face, and recognized the angry-big-brother look. Smiling briefly, Cameron realized that Foreman perhaps felt protective towards her, which was a far cry from their first meeting. It was appreciated though, and she quickly squeezed his arm to let him know she was okay. But she also needed to fight her own battles.

"Will, I'm going to pick up some clothes, enough to last me for a little while. This afternoon, I'm meeting with a divorce lawyer. I don't really plan on speaking to you again, excepting those instances in which we _have_ to in order to end our marriage. Got it?"

"Allie…" Will started.

"I don't want to hear it," she dismissed. Cameron left Will in the living room with Foreman. She was pretty sure Will wouldn't try to follow her. It didn't take her long to pack, mostly because she made no effort to pack things neatly. _It's an unfortunate metaphor for my life right now, _she thought. _Desperately wanting to move forward, yet not taking the time to organize the things I need. I'll probably never find my toothbrush. _Surprisingly, she didn't look behind her as she left the bedroom. But only material possessions now remained; all the memories from here were ones that she wanted to forget.

"I'm ready," she said. Foreman nodded, sending one last glare in Will's direction.

* * *

"So, I have to admit that I was kind of surprised to get a phone call from Wilson this morning, asking me to take you to your own apartment," Foreman said, once they were settled in his car. Cameron took a quick peek at the back seat, content that her suitcase and two boxes were properly arranged.

"Why?" she asked, turning around and pushing one of the boxes back against the seat.

"I don't know, I guess I was wondering why he called me." Foreman watched her in his rearview mirror. When she caught his gaze, she smiled.

"Honestly, Foreman, I don't know. I'm guessing he thought that I needed some backup, and you are the most reliable backup one can get." Cameron laughed when Foreman rolled his eyes. "No, I'm serious! Who else could we have called in an instance like this?"

"What he didn't tell me was why you're leaving your apartment in the first place," Foreman noted. He gave Cameron a pointed look, clearly expecting her to explain.

"Ah, that." Suddenly, she could feel herself clam up; she wasn't sure how much she wanted to share with her coworker. After a tense silence, Foreman sighed.

"It's okay, you don't have to tell me."

"No, no. I will. It's just…complicated. The short story is that I caught him in bed with another woman," Cameron said, wringing her hands. Foreman shook his head, mumbling under his breath.

"There needs to be a longer story than that? 'He's a cheating bastard' seems to about cover it."

"Well, it _is_ more complicated than that. Things hadn't been going well for a while; this is basically the straw that broke the camel's back." Cameron wasn't sure whom she was trying to defend. Will? Not exactly.

"Sounds more like the log that beat up the old, decrepit camel, if you ask me." Foreman was clearly angry, gripping the steering wheel until his knuckles turned white. "Cameron, your husband sounds like an ass."

"He is, but he's not going to be my husband for much longer, and I can't tell you how excited I am about that," she said, leaning back in her seat and closing her eyes. "I can't wait to have my own apartment. I can't wait to pick out the furniture that I want, and fill the fridge with only the food that _I_ like. I can't wait to decide what to do with my free time, without wondering if someone else will care."

"I keep forgetting you've been married for ten years," Foreman said quietly. His grip on the steering wheel had relaxed. "You've missed out on so much."

"A while ago, I would have disagreed with you, Foreman. But now I know that you're right. I never really got to be my own, separate person, you know?"

"Yeah," he agreed. "But luckily, you're still young. You have a lot of barhopping to catch up on," he added, smiling. "I bet you're a total lightweight."

"Only one way for you to find out, isn't there?" Cameron countered, returning his smile. Foreman, though he was driving, took a quick glance in her direction. He'd never seen her look so confident, which was odd considering she'd just caught her husband with another woman. In fact, it would appear that that had been the best thing that had happened to her. Go figure.

"I guess there is, and on Friday, I plan on proving my supposition."

"How much do you want to bet?"

* * *

Cameron was happy to be staying with Cuddy for the moment, but she wasn't as thrilled that tonight was girls' night. Cuddy had offered to cancel, but Cameron thought that it would perhaps be for the best if she didn't seem to be avoiding Stacy. Maybe that was just her guilty conscience speaking, though.

Either way, it still took a moment after she heard the knock on the front door before Cameron could open it.

"Allison," Stacy said with a hesitant smile. "I heard about your husband, I'm so sorry." Cameron blushed.

"I didn't realize that the story was already making the rounds," she mumbled.

"Oh, no, it's on a strictly need-to-know basis. James told Lisa, who told me. She was just worried, that's all," Stacy explained, stepping inside. Cameron nodded and shut the door behind her. "But she didn't fill me in on any details, which, of course, you don't have to tell me." Again Cameron nodded. After an awkward moment of silence, the two moved to the kitchen, where Cuddy was opening a bottle of white wine.

"Stacy," Cuddy greeted. "How was your day?"

"Relatively calm, I have to say. Greg didn't give anyone a reason to sue him, so that's always a good day." Stacy reached for a filled glass, and handed it to Cameron, who smiled appreciatively.

"House? Behaving? I don't believe you," Cuddy joked, handing the second glass to Stacy.

"Well, he did inexplicably break his cane into several pieces this morning, but after that he was pretty subdued." When Cameron started choking on her wine, Stacy and Cuddy turned to stare at her.

"Why'd he break his cane?" Cameron asked between coughs. She was hoping that her coughing would explain the sudden rise of color on her cheeks.

"I don't know. I tried asking James, but he didn't seem to be in a sharing mood this morning," Stacy replied, her gaze hardening.

"He was probably just tired," Cameron explained. "I'm afraid I kept him up late last night. I spent the night at his place after…well, last night."

"I'm so sorry I wasn't around, Allison," Cuddy apologized.

"It's okay," Cameron said. "Wilson was really great, to be honest. He's… a really great guy, isn't he?" There was a hint of a smile on her face as she turned to look at Cuddy. "He's funny, kind, compassionate, smart, good-looking…it's really a wonder he's not taken." She raised an eyebrow, as Cuddy's eyes narrowed slightly.

"He _has _been taken, three times to be exact. It's the whole cheating-on-his-wives thing that's the problem," Cuddy responded, just a tad defensively.

"Yes, that _is_ a problem, isn't it?" Stacy mumbled into her wine. Both Cameron and Cuddy lowered their gazes for a moment.

"Maybe he just hasn't found the right woman, yet. He needs someone strong, someone who isn't going to let things go unsaid. You know, someone who will fight with him, and someone who will fight for him," Cameron proposed.

"I think that's a very romantic notion, Allison, but probably nothing close to reality," Cuddy said, placing the wine back in the fridge.

"I don't know about that," Cameron countered. "I mean, look at his relationship with House. They're completely different, and yet…" she trailed off, shrugging. "I think he's perfectly capable of monogamy, but I also think that he needs someone who is going to challenge him in all the right ways. The problems always come up when you can't really say what you mean. Or, more likely, you _don't_ say what you mean."

"It's never that simple," Stacy said, sighing.

"Why not?" Cameron asked. "Why can't it be that simple? Why don't we just all say what we mean? I should have told Will that I wasn't happy; I should have told him that…" She paused, looking down at her wine. "I should have told him I didn't love him anymore. It's not easy to say, I know, but if I had said that, then we probably wouldn't be here. We could have parted amicably, and sent each other Christmas cards every year, or something." _Somehow I still doubt that_, she thought.

"But how did you know you didn't love him anymore?" Stacy asked. Cameron looked up at her, and saw something hard in her eyes.

"I…" For a moment, Cameron thought about telling her the entire truth, but she knew that that was insane. "I realized that I wasn't who I wanted to be."

"And who do you want to be?" Stacy asked, crossing her arms over her chest.

"I'm still not sure," Cameron responded slowly, eyeing Stacy warily. "But it definitely wasn't who I was with Will, I can tell you that." As the two women continued to stare at each other, Cuddy coughed nervously and said,

"Well, I've got a great new dip that I want you guys to taste." It was Cameron who broke eye contact first, turning to Cuddy with a smile and saying,

"I can't wait."

* * *

The next day, Cameron was back in the office. As always, she was the first one in, and, therefore, the one to make the coffee. She didn't really feel the need to miss any more work. All the extra time she had on her hands only made her think about Will, or…

"House," she said. "You're in early." He stopped in his tracks the moment he saw her by the sink. She poured coffee into his red mug, and walked over to him. Hesitantly, she held it out to him. But he didn't take it. Instead, he stared at the mug for a long moment before gazing at her face. Cameron could tell that he was trying to figure something out—he always had that same look on his face when looking at a whiteboard filled with symptoms.

"I already had coffee this morning," he said, slowly turning away and walking into his office.

"Oh," she said to his back. If House heard her, he made no indication that he did. In fact, he immediately shut the blinds in his office, leaving Cameron completely by herself. "Oh," she repeated to nobody. She set the cup of coffee down on the conference table, and went to the bathroom.

Once inside the ladies room, she ran to the sink closest to the wall, and turned it on. For a moment she let the water run. Then she placed both hands underneath the stream and enjoyed the feel of the running hot water against her cold skin. After another second, she turned the water off with a violent turn of the faucet. Cameron placed one warm hand on the back of her neck, letting droplets of water run down her back and shoulders.

"I'm okay," she whispered out loud. "Why wouldn't I be okay? I'm fine." She wiped her hands dry, and returned to the conference room. But once there, she stopped dead in her tracks and stared at the table, her brow furrowed.

"Hey Cameron, what's up?" The door opened behind her, and Chase walked in.

"Oh, I'm fine," she responded, clearly distracted. Chase stepped behind her, and followed her gaze.

"Cameron? What are you staring at? There's nothing on the table."

"I know," she answered breathlessly. "There's nothing there." Cameron was saved from another question once Foreman came in.

"Hey guys," he greeted. "I just saw Cuddy; she's on her way up here." At that moment, Cuddy entered the conference room, files in hand.

"Hi everyone," she said. After a quick glance around the room, she frowned. "Where's House? Is he not in yet?"

"He's in his office," Cameron answered. Cuddy strode over to his door, and opened it.

"House, I need you in here for a moment." Cameron heard him sigh, then heard the clink of something being placed against his desk. He appeared in the doorway, avoiding eye contact with everyone in the room. Cuddy took a deep breath.

"I'm sending you all to a diagnostics conference next month," she announced. "It's a weeklong event in Vienna, Austria, so I hope you all have your passports." After all four doctors nodded, she started to hand them each a folder. "Here is information about your airline tickets, hotel, as well as a conference schedule. It's a pretty big deal, so I need each of you to be on your best behavior. Got that, House?"

"Why me?" House whined.

"Oh, I don't know, call it a gut instinct," Cuddy replied sarcastically, slapping his file against his chest. She stepped closer to him. "No funny business, House, I mean it." The two stared at each other for a long moment, as House's eyes narrowed in interest.

"Yes, Mommy," he said, snatching his file away. After Cuddy stormed out of the office, Chase turned to Foreman and Cameron and said,

"Cool."

"Yeah," Foreman agreed. "You're right, actually."

"No need to sound so surprised," Chase responded dryly. Foreman looked up from his file to make sure House had retreated back into his office, and turned to Chase.

"Cameron and I are hitting the bars on Friday to celebrate the end of her marriage. She's got a lot of lost time to make up for, you understand," he explained, smiling in Cameron's direction. "Want to come?" Chase's eyes widened slightly for a second, though Cameron wasn't sure if it was because he didn't know she was getting a divorce, or if it was because Foreman had actually invited him to do something.

"Sure, I'd love to. I know a great place…"


	13. Wait

**Disclaimer: I don't own House!**

**A/N: YAY!!! 100 REVIEWS!!!!!!! You guys are awesome. I love your reviews. Writing is funny. I have everything for this story pretty much planned out, but up pops Cameron, and she starts pushing me. Maybe she won't feel so great about that in the morning… **

* * *

CHAPTER 13

It had not been House's original plan to be spending his Friday night in a bar with Wilson. In fact, that hadn't even been on the menu. It was his own fault, though; he knew that. Sighing, House ran a hand over his face. Wilson watched him as he downed the rest of his scotch before asking,

"So, what'd you do?" House placed his glass down on the counter with a loud smack. He motioned to the bartender, asking for a refill.

"What makes you think _I_ did something?" Wilson just shrugged in response. House rolled his eyes. "I may have pissed Stacy off."

"I got that part, you know. The big clue was when she abandoned you at the hospital without a ride home. That also means that you didn't go in today _intending_ to piss her off, otherwise you surely would have brought your own car. So, I'll repeat: what'd you do?" Wilson shook his head no when the bartender offered him a refill.

"She's been on my case a lot recently," House explained, not looking at Wilson.

"Recently as in the past few months? Or perhaps since a certain infamous dinner party?" House turned to glare at Wilson. "I guess that answers my question."

"We haven't…you_ know_, in a while," House said, looking down at his drink.

"You mean…"

"Yeah."

"Oh," Wilson said, leaning towards House. He looked quickly behind him and whispered, "Since when?"

"About a month." Wilson nearly fell out of his chair.

"A MONTH?" House rolled his eyes once more, taking a long gulp of his scotch. He made a face as the alcohol burned his throat.

"Say it a little louder, why don't you?"

"I'm sorry, House, but a month? I had no idea things were that bad. What about before that?"

"I believe the term 'irregular' could be used. Also 'boring' and 'unsatisfying.'"

"Wow," Wilson said, running a hand through his hair. "I mean, I don't even know what to say. Have you…tried anything, uh, new recently?" His eyes still slightly wide, Wilson caught the bartender's gaze and held up his empty glass.

"Stacy isn't precisely the most adventurous, if you understand what I mean."

"So, wait, when did this all start? Was it when a certain immunologist showed up?" House shook his head.

"No, before that. It's been slowly going downhill for a while now, Wilson."

"You didn't tell her that, did you?" Wilson groaned as House made a pained face. "Seriously, House, don't tell me you are _that_ stupid."

"She _may_ have asked me why we haven't had sex in a while and I _may_ have said that it's because it's been so boring. She also _may_ have countered that I didn't really know since we hadn't done it in a while, and I _may_ have…" House sighed deeply. "I may have told her that it's been going downhill for a long time." He scrunched his nose and he downed the rest of his drink. Wilson stared at him, his mouth open and his eyes wide. After a moment, he shook his head.

"That's not all, is it?" he whispered. House sighed and placed his forehead on the counter.

"No, of course not, Wilson."

"What else happened?" Wilson asked, still whispering.

"She _may_ have insinuated that I'd found someone else that I wanted to have sex with more than her, and that I should just go spend the night with 'that whore' instead. I _may_ have told her that that was a brilliant idea." He lifted his head off of the counter and covered his face with both hands.

"You didn't," Wilson groaned. "You really need to get some sort of censoring system, House, I swear. How could you say that?"

"Well, I didn't_ mean_ it," House defended. "She's been a passive-aggressive bitch for the past week, and I was just trying to get her to finally admit _why_."

"You couldn't just ask her?"

"No, of course not. She wouldn't tell me the truth, she would just pretend that everything was hunky-dory," House answered bitterly, slamming the glass down on the counter, motioning to the bartender once more. "Stacy expects _me_ to talk about _my _problems, but the moment you try to make it about her, she shuts down. Normally I'm glad to avoid talking about my 'feelings' but…" House trailed off as the bartender poured him another double scotch.

"But you two haven't been talking for so long that things have begun to seriously break down?" Wilson guessed. House held his drink between his hands, thinking for a long moment. Then he turned to Wilson, his gaze intense.

"Yeah," House answered softly, his shoulders sagging. "I'm not happy, Wilson," he confessed, his voice dropping to little more than a whisper.

"Because of… Cameron?" Wilson asked, his eyes widening as he looked over House's shoulder.

"Why do you assume_ Cameron_?" House downed the entire scotch.

"No, I'm sorry. I mean, she's here. With Foreman and Chase, apparently, and they're…" House turned and followed Wilson's line of sight.

"Very, very drunk."

* * *

"Why are we here?" Chase grumbled. "There was nothing wrong with that last place, if only Foreman had managed…" He trailed off when he stumbled into the wall. Cameron started laughing hysterically, and pulled on his arm to help him regain his balance. 

"Come on! That guy groped Cameron, what was I supposed to do? Let him get away with it?" Foreman was the most sober of the bunch, but it was still taking some effort to walk completely straight.

"Wilson!" Cameron exclaimed. "House!" She sounded even more excited about the second option, much to Foreman and Chase's drunken dismay. "We're over here!" She started to wave, earning eye rolls from her two colleagues.

"Uh, guys, how are you doing?" Wilson asked, approaching the trio. "How about we all get a table in the back? You know, away from everyone else." He then turned to the bartender and mouthed, "Water!" The bartender nodded. They made their way through a crowd of people dancing and up a small flight of stairs. There was no one sitting up on the balcony, allowing them both privacy and the ability to spy on everyone else in the bar.

House followed the group, behind a few steps. His eyes narrowed as he watched Cameron hold on to Chase's arm, though, granted, Chase certainly needed the help. Cameron laughed again as Chase stumbled. House had to grip his cane in order to resist the urge to punch Chase in the face when Chase turned to Cameron and flashed her a brilliant grin. He was sure it was a grin that had warmed the hearts of many women before.

House really hated Robert Chase sometimes.

"House!" Cameron slurred. "Wha' are you doin' back there?" She let go of Chase's arm, and Chase, suddenly without someone to balance on, fell into the nearest table. Cameron took a moment to giggle, but went to meet House at the top of the stairs. "We've been havin' so much fun tonight, House. You shoulda been there. Oh! Bu' you're here _now_! That's so great!" House pursued his lips, praying that he wouldn't burst into laughter at the sight of a drunken Cameron trying to concentrate on holding a conversation with him.

"What did you guys do?" House asked slowly, hoping to move Cameron to the booth that the other three men were currently occupying. She stumbled, and House quickly dropped his cane to catch her. They stood still for a second, each staring at the hand gripping her elbow, and each feeling the one placed at the small of her back. Slowly, Cameron bent down and picked up House's cane for him.

"You dropped this," she said. House took it back from her, nodding. "You've been avoidin' me, House."

"Cameron, you're drunk," he said seriously. Cameron smiled, and tried to wave off his comment, nearly falling in the process. Again, House placed his hand on her back, trying to steady her.

"Well, it's all Foreman's fault," she whined, flopping down into her seat. She scooted over to make room for House, patting the spot next to her. House rolled his eyes, but sat down next to her anyway. "Foreman made me do sho's."

"Shots?" Wilson asked, confused.

"Tha's wha' I said! How many did we do, Foreman?"

"I don't know, Cam, I lost track after seven," Foreman responded, reaching for a glass of water.

"Seven?" House growled. "You had her do _seven_ shots? What kind of idiot are you?" He angrily grabbed two glasses of water and placed them in front of Cameron. "Drink both of these," he ordered. Cameron grinned slowly, and leaned forward to whisper in House's ear.

"I like you like this," she said in a sultry voice. House gripped the edge of his seat, remembering that moment in the kitchen…

"I didn't _make_ her do seven shots," Foreman defended. "In fact, he made _me_ do seven shots."

"Somehow you don't seem to be any worse off," House said, gritting his teeth.

"Well, he did have to beat up that guy," Chase offered. "But Foreman certainly got the best of him. Go Foreman," he said, closing his eyes and leaning back.

"Okay, Chase, stay with us," Wilson said, shaking Chase's shoulder. Chase groaned, but opened his eyes. "Why did you have to beat someone up?"

"This guy was dancing with Cameron, and he groped her! She tried pushing him away, but he came right back at her. So, I punched him in the face. Unfortunately we had to leave after that."

"My knight in shining armor!" Cameron giggled, finishing her second glass of water. House was practically seeing red at the idea of some random guy trying to… He shook his head, not really wanting to go there.

"Well, next time, Cam, don't do that thing with your hips," Foreman admonished.

"Wha' thing?" she pouted. If House hadn't been so pissed off at all of them, he probably would have smiled at the childlike stubbornness on her face.

"You _know_, that thing. I can't explain it, all I can remember is the look on every guy's face. I'm only glad I had to beat one guy up, as opposed to dozens." Cameron made a noise in response, which House could only interpret as "As if!" Though, honestly, he couldn't be sure.

"I want to dance again!" she announced, clapping loudly.

"Oh, I _so_ don't think so," House responded. Cameron pouted again, but House wasn't budging. She hmphed and stood up. House still didn't move. But he grew worried when he saw the sparkle in her eye, and the lazy smile on her face. Slowly, she placed one hand right by his head. Gulping, House looked up into her eyes, and saw unabashed desire. He couldn't move when she placed her other hand on other side of his head. He couldn't breathe when she lifted one leg over him and stood facing him, straddling him. House closed his eyes, hoping that maybe she would just go away if he didn't see her.

No such luck.

Instead, she leaned forward until their noses were almost touching. House was drowning in the scent of her, his breath catching in his throat.

"Wanna dance?" she asked breathlessly. Cameron didn't wait for an answer, but instead lifted her other leg over him, and slowly walked away. Every man at the table, save a passed-out Chase, stared at her form until she was down on the dance floor. Then House slowly regained his wits, and turned to the other two men. Wilson was clearly trying not to laugh, but Foreman was glaring.

"What?" House asked, shrugging his shoulders. Foreman leaned back in his seat, arms crossed over his chest.

"I don't know, why don't you tell me?" House returned the glare, and stood up.

"I'm going to make sure no one tries to grope her," he said, grabbing his cane. Out of sheer frustration, he poked Chase in the side. Chase jumped about ten feet in the air, immediately spouting gibberish. "Just wanted to make sure you're okay," House said, walking to the stairs.

It didn't take long to find Cameron. The dance floor was one in name only, and there were only a small handful of people dancing. But there was Cameron, doing that thing with her hips, and catching the attention of every male in the near vicinity. He rolled his eyes, and walked up to her.

"What do you think you're doing?" he asked, his voice rising above the music.

"Dancing!" she exclaimed, standing on her tiptoes and putting her arms around his neck. House rolled his eyes.

"It looks more like you're trying to make every male in the room salivate," he said.

"Is it working?" She smiled sultrily, and lifted one eyebrow. _Would a 'hell yes' be appropriate in this instance?_ he thought. His head felt a little fuzzy, though he couldn't be sure if it was the alcohol he'd imbibed, or the sudden memory of her lips on his.

"Cameron," House started. "I-I…" Immediately she shushed him.

"House, I know," she conceded, dropping her gaze to the floor. "Right now, though, just dance with me?" she pleaded, looking up at him. No man in his right mind could resist her, he knew. He was completely and utterly screwed. So, even though his mind was screaming not to, he placed one hand on the small of her back, wordlessly urging her closer to him. She didn't need any encouragement.

Cameron left little space between their bodies. When she took a deep breath, her breasts grazed House's chest, causing his breath to hiss out of his body.

"Cameron," he said. "We can't do this."

"Dance?" she scoffed. "We can't dance?"

"No," he replied. "Not that."

"Then what?" she asked, leaning her head back to look him in the eyes. "What is it that we're doing?" When House didn't respond, she continued. "Why do I have to leave a mug of coffee on your desk instead of handing it to you directly? Why do I have to feel guilty every time I'm near Stacy? Why do I have to spend every night thinking about what happened in Cuddy's kitchen?"

"Your husband," House said. "He hurt you."

"Yeah, you're right, he did. I let him hurt me, though. I didn't stand up for myself; I didn't stand up for what I wanted. I'd almost lost him once, and I was so afraid of losing him again that I was willing to compromise myself. What's your excuse?"

"I don't know what you're talking about," he whispered. Cameron let one hand slowly move from the back of his neck to rest on his chest, over his heart.

"Why do you let yourself be unhappy?"

"You're drunk, Cameron," House said, trying to step away. Her grip was tight, though, so she followed him.

"True," she conceded. "Nothing like a little liquid courage, I guess." House stared into her eyes, desperately wishing that he could show her everything he felt, instead of having to explain it. Hell, he wasn't even sure of what he felt. "So, why do you let yourself be unhappy? What are you afraid of?"

"What do you think would make me happy?" He was sure that she could feel his heart pounding beneath her palm.

"Only you can answer that, I suppose. But I just have a feeling that what you have right now isn't it."

"You can't always get what you want…"

"I've heard the song, House. It goes on to say that if you try sometimes, you might find you get what you need. But you don't even try, do you? Why is that?"

"You're a very pushy drunk, Cameron," he said, letting a ghost of a smile pass over his face.

"Don't try to change the subject," she admonished, lightly running her fingers against the back of his neck. House shivered and closed his eyes. "I'm not going to be the other woman, House," she whispered.

"Who says I want you to be?" He opened his eyes to find her frowning at him. At that moment, the music stopped. During those brief seconds of silence, Cameron stepped away from House, still frowning. She walked away from him without saying another word. He was left alone on the dance floor.

* * *

Unfortunately, after that, he and Wilson needed to give the three fellows rides home. Chase had finally emptied his stomach in the bathroom, emerging pale and miserable. That had been their cue to leave. Foreman and Wilson were both holding him up, leaving Cameron and House trailing behind them on the way to the parking lot. House stopped in his tracks, letting the three men move away from him and Cameron. Cameron, sobering up slightly, stopped with him. He briefly glanced in her direction, catching the questioning look on her face. 

"I don't want you to be the other woman," he confessed.

"Should I wait?" she asked. House looked up, surprised. But a quick look at her face told him she was perfectly serious.

"No," he replied, confused. Cameron rolled her eyes.

"I can wait, House, but not forever."

"Exactly, which is why you shouldn't even start to wait."

"Listen, we both need time. I understand this, and you understand this, but I want to know if I have a reason to wait, because I _will_." House stared at her, his brow furrowed. She didn't blink, though, but instead smiled and stepped closer to him. "Well?"

House nodded. For a moment, neither was sure if he had, but then he whispered.

"Wait."


	14. The Beginning of an End

**Disclaimer: I don't own House.**

**A/N: I love your reviews, guys. They make me happy. I'm glad so many of you guys are getting psyched for Vienna, because Vienna is one of my favorite cities in the world, and I'm pretty sure House and Cam are going to be quite fond of it as well. We'll be there soon. (Maybe the next chapter?) **

* * *

CHAPTER 14 

House groaned softly as he rolled over in bed, only to be hit by blinding rays of sunlight. He groaned louder, throwing an arm over his face. Instinctively he knew that Stacy wasn't in bed next to him, and he wasn't surprised. She'd been dead asleep when he returned home last night. Not that he would have felt like talking to her had she been awake.

"Greg?" he heard her ask softly. "It's almost one, I was thinking about going down to the deli and grabbing some sandwiches for lunch. Do you want a Reuben?" House sighed.

"Sure," he croaked. "I'm going to take a shower." After he heard the front door shut, he threw off the covers and limped into the bathroom. He took a moment in front of the mirror, running a hand over his stubble.

All he could think about was last night. House closed his eyes, remembering the look on Cameron's face when he had uttered that small, tiny word.

_"Wait," he said. Cameron stared at him for a long moment, her body motionless but her eyes dancing. Then, without another word, she started walking towards the car. Confused, House stood there, rooted to the spot where he stood._

_"Aren't you coming?" she threw over her shoulder. Then she smiled. It lit up her entire face, a smile that forced the breath from House's body. She slowed down to let him catch up to her, and they walked closely together, arms occasionally brushing. When House moved past her to get into the front seat, she surreptitiously grabbed his hand and squeezed it._

House stared at that hand, lightly placed against the sink. At the moment he'd been too surprised to do anything else but stare at her, but even now he could swear he felt the warmth of her skin.

Sighing, House turned on the shower and stepped in.

* * *

He had just finished dressing when he heard the front door open and close. Hesitantly, House peeked out the bedroom door, and saw Stacy precariously balancing drinks and bags, which he assumed were sandwiches. She was biting her lip in concentration, taking small, slow steps to the kitchen.

"Need help?" he called out. Stacy nearly jumped at the sound of his voice, but soon recovered, smiling.

"That'd be great, thanks." She waited as he limped down the corridor. Taking stock of the situation, House grabbed the drinks, which he decided would be the most disastrous losses should they tumble.

In silence, Stacy and House grabbed plates and sat down at the kitchen counter.

"What did you do last night?" she asked.

"You mean after you abandoned me at the hospital?" House countered. Stacy sighed, rolling her eyes.

"Yeah, after that."

"Wilson and I went to a bar, had drinks, talked about our _feelings_, and afterwards we hugged. It was a very beautiful night."

"I'm sure," Stacy said, the sarcasm dripping from her tone. There was another moment of silence as they both took bites of our sandwiches.

"We ran into Chase, Foreman, and Cameron," House revealed, carefully watching Stacy. As expected, she started choking when he mentioned Cameron's name. He took another bite of his Reuben, waiting for her to recover.

"Oh?" she said, just a little too casually. "And what were they doing?"

"Getting unbelievably drunk. Chase was completely passed out, Foreman was concentrating very hard on walking straight, and Cameron…" he trailed off, uncertain of what to say. "Well, let's just say she was making up for all those lost years being married to that jerk of a husband. Wilson and I took pity on all of them and gave them rides home."

"Somehow, the words 'pity' and 'Greg House' don't seem to go together," Stacy noted.

"Okay, I'll tell the truth. I was just really enjoying poking Chase with my cane, and seeing how far Foreman would go to prove that he wasn't drunk." House took another bite of his sandwich.

"And Allison?" This time, it was House's turn to be caught off guard. "What were you enjoying about her?" House just stared at Stacy, noticing the sadness in her eyes. He didn't answer for a long time, chewing his sandwich slowly and deliberately.

"I can't help but think that you're trying to insinuate something there," House said, the caustic edge to his voice destroying what was left of Stacy's patience.

"What if I am?" she countered. "I can't help but notice the way you look at her, Greg. Please don't treat me like an idiot; I can see that something's going on. I just wish you would tell me what!" Stacy threw down her sandwich and gave House her full attention.

"What do you want me to say? That we're having a torrid affair behind your back?" House's voice was calm, despite the sick knot in his stomach.

"If that's what's going on, then yes!" She slammed a fist down on the table, causing the sodas to shiver in their glasses. He watched his glass until the liquid settled, then turned to Stacy. When he spoke, his voice was quiet.

"Since when have you settled for less?"

"What?" Stacy was clearly confused.

"In all the time I've known you, you've never been willing to settle for anything less than what you deserved. Now, all of a sudden, despite your constant state of passive-aggression, you're tolerating a possible cheating husband. What I want to know is why." Stacy's mouth opened and shut a few times, before she leaned back in her chair, sighing.

"I love you, Greg."

"No, that's not why. Good guess, though." House took another bite of his sandwich.

"Well, if you know everything, how about you tell me?" Bitterness crept into Stacy's voice, and House decided to back off slightly on the sarcasm. He didn't want to turn this into a fight just about him being a jerk; that was too easy.

"You're afraid," he announced. "You're afraid of being alone, you're afraid of being inadequate, and you're afraid of having to start over." He let that sink in. "In fact, I would say you're so afraid of all of those things, that you've been willing to compromise—oh, wait for it—who you _really_ are." He couldn't help the sarcastic tone of that last part. "You deserve better than this, Stacy, so why are you settling?"

"What are you afraid of?" Stacy asked, surprisingly calm.

"Me? Nothing. Though sometimes I have nightmares about suffocating in Cuddy's cleavage."

"No, you're afraid of being happy."

"Okay, _Wilson._" House rolled his eyes. Stacy made a disgusted noise, clearly disapproving of his continual avoidance of all things serious.

"Come on, Greg. Let's be honest. You like to make things complicated. You say that our sex is boring, but _you_ don't do anything about it. You just avoid it, make excuses. Because Heaven forbid you might actually have to work on a relationship for once in your life. If you do that, you might actually be happy every once in a while! No, instead you keep quiet, coming home every night and sleeping beside me as if nothing's right and yet nothing's wrong. So, you're telling me that I'm just settling for less than I deserve. Well what about you? What do you deserve?" They both stared at each other for a long moment as Stacy's eyes watered with conflicting emotions. Truthfully, though, House didn't have an answer to that. He just said the first thing that came to his mind.

"I'm not happy."

"I know, Greg," Stacy snapped. "It's pretty damn obvious to everyone around you, I'm just glad you're finally willing to admit it."

"And I don't think that I'm ever going to be happy as long as I'm with you." That stunned her into silence. Her eyes widened, and her mouth opened slightly. She stuttered for a moment.

"What are you saying?"

"I don't think we're going to work out."

"How can you say that when you haven't even _tried_?"

"Wouldn't you say that five years constitutes at least a 'try'?"

"Not if the only way I can tell you're unhappy with our marriage is when you're making eyes at your young _employee_!" she spat out that last word. "Come on, you can't just give up like this. Not yet."

"Why? Are you really happy, Stacy? Can you answer truthfully that you are?" House had finally put down his sandwich, feeling the frustration boil within him. "Why are you still here?"

"Because I love you! How many more times do I have to say that until you believe me?" She stood up, and went to kneel in front of House.

"How do many times do you have to say it until _you_ believe you?" Stacy sighed, putting a hand on his knee.

"What do you want to do?"

"I want…" House trailed off, not sure. He frowned, staring at his discarded sandwich. "I want to be alone."

"That's not really an answer," Stacy chided. House ran a hand over his face.

"I know."

"So, is it that you don't know what you want to do, or is it that you're just not ready to say it?" Her voice had dropped, and House could hear the slight quaver that she tried to hide. "Say it, Greg."

"I don't love you."

Stacy stood up, covering her face with her hands. She took a few deep breaths, and then slowly put her hands on her hips. Pursing her lips, she shook her head, trying to get a stray strand of hair out of her face. House stood up, and walked over to her. He reached out and tenderly tucked the strand behind her ear.

"Since when… how long has it been…" Stacy was babbling, but House knew what she was asking.

"A while."

"Before she…"

"Yes. She had nothing to do with it."

"Did you sleep with her?" Stacy asked.

"No," House answered firmly, shaking his head. She relaxed somewhat, stepping forward and delicately leaning into House. He looked up at the ceiling for a moment, tensing, but then awkwardly put his arms around her. Stacy sighed.

"Were we ever happy?" she queried, her voice muffled.

"I like to think so," he responded.

"Do you think we can be again?"

"I don't know," he answered truthfully. "A lot has happened since then."

"You're talking about your leg? I know that that's been difficult for both of us…"

"More for me than for you, really," House interrupted, the edge returning to his voice. Stacy placed a hand on his chest, pleading with him to stay calm. "You're always going to see me as a shadow of the man I was before, Stacy," he said, his voice dropping. Stacy looked taken aback. "You came back. Why?" When he thought about it, they'd never really discussed why she'd showed up on his doorstep, months after he'd kicked her out. At the time, he'd been relieved. Now, though?

"I… I wanted to be with you, no matter what."

"You mean you felt sorry for me."

"No, Greg, not that. You make it very difficult to feel sorry for you," she joked, forcing a smile. "I was afraid when the whole thing happened. You almost died, and I realized that I didn't know what I'd do without you. So, when you kicked me out, I was almost relieved because then I didn't have to deal with what had happened. But I realized that I missed you. It's as simple as that."

"But it's never been the same, has it?" Stacy frowned at his question, and took a moment to think about it.

"Was it supposed to be? Something big happened, Greg, we couldn't ignore that."

"No, but we've never really been _happy_ since then. We were used to each other, used to our routines, so it felt like too much to give that up in addition to everything else. You were something familiar, and I thought I needed that. But that's not what I needed, and it's not what you needed."

"What did I need, then?"

"I don't know, only you can answer that." They both stared at the other, confused by the sudden outpouring of truths. In fact, they hadn't had a conversation like this in… well, in years. "We both should have moved on long ago."

"Really, Greg?" He heard the note of pain in her voice.

"Yeah," he said.

"We should think about this, really. Let's not rush any decisions. So, let's start small: how about lunch on Monday?"

"You want to decide the future of our marriage over lunch?" House tried joking, but the seriousness of the question hung over both of them.

"We should take our time, Greg."

"Aren't we just delaying the inevitable?" he asked.

"Maybe, but I'm not ready to give up just yet." House sighed as he saw the earnestness in Stacy's expression. "We can't throw away years together. Not like this."

"Okay," he conceded. "Lunch on Monday. In the meantime, though, I'm staying at Wilson's." Stacy's face fell. "I'm not going to wait forever, though, for you to be ready."

"Does that mean that you're not ready, either?" House frowned, contemplating her question. He didn't have a straight answer. Deep down he knew that their marriage was irretrievably broken, but as cruel as House could be, he also knew that he wasn't ready to break Stacy's heart. This was the first step, though, and that was a burden off of his shoulders.

"No, it doesn't mean that." He released her, and stepped away. "I'm going to pack some things to take to Wilson's. I'll see you on Monday." Slowly, House walked away from her. It wasn't until Stacy heard the front door close that she let herself cry.

* * *

Wilson opened the door to his apartment, surprised to see House standing there. Then he looked down, and saw that House was carrying a small duffle bag. Meeting House's subdued gaze, Wilson raised an eyebrow. 

"I've been waiting a long time for this moment." But he didn't move away from the doorway.

"Can I come in?" House growled.

"Why do you need to come in?" Wilson asked, feigning innocence. House mumbled something. "I'm sorry, what was that?"

"I need to crash on your couch!" House yelled. Wilson nodded solemnly, and stepped aside so House could enter.

"Welcome to the club. Beer is in the fridge."

* * *

Cameron woke up late in the afternoon. She rolled over in bed and saw the clock change to 2:47. 

"Oh, man!" she groaned. Thankfully it appeared she'd drunk enough water over the course of the evening so that she didn't feel completely hungover. It helped that after Wilson and House dropped her off at Cuddy's, she hadn't been able to sleep. Instead, she had sat in the kitchen, drinking water and contemplating that one word House had uttered.

_"Wait."_

Cameron sighed, and pulled the covers up over her mouth, attempting to hide the goofy grin that spread over her face. After another moment, she threw off the covers, and got out of bed. She was definitely hungry.

As she reached the bottom of the stairs, Cameron heard Cuddy's voice.

"Stacy, I'm so sorry." A pause "He's staying at Wilson's for the weekend? Well, that's a change of pace." Another pause. "No, I'm sorry, that wasn't very funny. But you said you two will talk on Monday?" A long pause. "But this doesn't necessarily mean your marriage is over, Stacy…"

Cameron's heart dropped to her stomach as she leaned on the wall for support. She closed her eyes, trying to control her suddenly erratic breathing.

"Maybe a break is good, though. Take some time to think about things, you know? Get your priorities in order, and all that." A shorter pause. "O-oh. Okay, well call me later if you want to. Okay. Yup. Bye, Stacy." When Cameron heard Cuddy hang up the phone, she finally walked into the kitchen.

"Morning, Lisa," Cameron greeted.

"Morning, Allison. Late night last night?"

"Oh no, did I wake you?" Cuddy smiled at the worry in Cameron's voice.

"Not at all. I just went to bed late. What did you do?" Cameron opened a cupboard, reaching for some tea that she had bought.

"Well, Foreman, Chase, and I went out to a couple of bars, which was fun," she said, slamming the cupboard shut. "We ran into Wilson and House," she added as an afterthought. That caught Cuddy's attention.

"Oh, really? What happened?"

"Not much, House was enjoying poking Chase with his cane, and trying to see how far Foreman would go to prove he wasn't drunk. Well, that last part was during the car ride home, mostly." She giggled, remembering one attempt in which House persuaded Foreman to say long and complicated medical phrases. When she saw Cuddy looking at her, one eyebrow raised, Cameron's smile fell, and she grabbed a teakettle to boil some water. "Maybe you had to be there."

"Maybe," Cuddy agreed. "Stacy just called me, actually."

"Oh?" Cameron tried to play innocent, but she knew that Cuddy wasn't exactly buying it.

"Apparently House is spending the weekend at Wilson's, and Stacy's afraid that this is the beginning of the end for them."

"That's…too bad," Cameron said, drawing each word out, worrying she might say the wrong thing. She put the water on the stove, and reached for a mug in another cupboard.

"I'm not so sure, actually," Cuddy countered, much to Cameron's surprise. She went to stand next to Cameron, and grabbed her own mug. "Maybe it's for the best."

"Really?" Cameron asked, the question popping out before she could stop it. To cover her blushing cheeks, she reached into the cupboard to grab what she knew was Cuddy's favorite tea.

"I've been thinking about it recently," Cuddy acknowledged, giving Cameron a pointed look. "And I've come to the conclusion that Stacy and House are in many ways mismatched. But I can't imagine it'll be easy to give up on five years of marriage just like that. At least, that's how Stacy feels."

"Well, I can understand that. It's a process. I'm going through that, too."

"Exactly. It would be foolish to rush into anything, right?" Cameron froze, finally understanding what this discussion was leading to. She turned to Cuddy, a look of panic on her face. Cuddy smiled, and opened her mouth to say something. However, the teakettle decided to save Cameron. A loud whistling filled the kitchen, so Cameron leapt towards the stove, and grabbed the kettle. Cuddy watched her as she poured the hot water into the two mugs.

"No, you're right, it definitely would be foolish to rush into anything," Cameron said quietly.

"Sometimes it's for the best to take your time." Cuddy reached for her mug, cupping it lightly.

"So, he's staying with Wilson? That's a change of pace." Cameron took a sip of her tea, grimacing as it scalded her tongue. Cuddy accepted the change of topic without blinking.

"That's what I said!"

They soon began to chat amiably, both momentarily forgetting anything having to do with Greg House.


	15. Wir fliegen um elf nach Wien

**Disclaimer: Stllz not ohning da House. Iz sorry.**

**A/N: Sorry it took so long to get this up. I'll have another chapter up soon. (As in, probably later tonight.) Well, we're flying to Vienna this chapter. We'll really BE there next chapter. **

* * *

CHAPTER 15 

Cameron sighed, buckling her seat belt. She knew she was in for a long plane ride. Neither Foreman nor Chase were willing to sit next to House for eight or nine hours, despite the cushy first-class accommodations. For her, that meant an extended period of close proximity to House, which could only result in her either wanting to rip his clothes off, or wanting to rip his head off. It could go either way.

The past month had gone by pretty quickly, eased on by a constant stream of patients and lack of any drama. Sure, the hospital rumor mill had practically exploded when it had finally gotten out that both Cameron and House were separated from their respective spouses. Stacy hadn't handled that well, though, so both House and Cameron had done their best to stay under the radar. In fact, Cameron would go so far as to say that they'd been avoiding each other.

House groaned, causing Cameron to raise an eyebrow and send a smirk in his direction. Well, there was no avoiding each other now.

"When do they start serving the alcohol?" he grumbled.

"Probably _after_ we take off," Cameron replied, speaking to him as if he were a child. House made a face in her general direction, petulantly crossing his arms over his chest and sulking.

Ripping his head off, apparently, was the current direction of things.

She reached into her carry-on bag, and pulled out a book. Cameron had been on enough flights so that paying attention to the safety videos was simply a waste of her time. House apparently felt the same way, because he leaned over in an attempt to read over her shoulder.

"You've got to be kidding me," he said. "You aren't seriously reading that." Cameron rolled her eyes.

"Why wouldn't I read it?"

"Oh, I can think of a few reasons, personally." He stared at her, though Cameron couldn't tell if he was angry, confused, or both.

"Apparently he changed the ending," she offered, shrugging.

"Still makes him your cheating jerk of a husband."

"That I can't deny." But to House's distress, she opened the book, seemingly intent on reading it. "Look at the dedication," she urged.

* * *

_Cameron wasn't sure what one is supposed to wear to a dinner with your soon-to-be-ex-husband. She didn't want to dress up too much, because that would make him think she was trying to impress him. On the other hand, she wanted to look good because, well, it didn't hurt to remind him what he was missing out on. With a huff, she pulled on a nice pair of jeans and a pink blouse that she usually wore to work. Black pumps would be enough to round out the outfit, and to make Will do a double take. She'd never worn pumps during her marriage._

_She was still learning how to walk in them, though. Step by step, she made it through the parking lot and into the bar where they'd agreed to meet for drinks. When he'd first called, Cameron wasn't sure she wanted to see him. But she figured that they had more than a few loose ends to tie up, and it wouldn't be fair to either of them to leave things as they were._

_It took her two seconds to spot him. Maybe after ten years of marriage, she had a built-in radar system when it came to Will. But he still hadn't spotted her._

_"Will," she said in way of greeting, sitting across from him in the booth. He looked up, clearly happy to see her._

_"Allie." There was no missing the longing in his voice. That one word let her know that this meeting was going to be much harder on her than she had originally expected._

_"How are you?"_

_"I miss you," Will said, reaching across the table to touch her hand. Cameron shook her head, drawing her hand onto her lap._

_"I don't miss you," she whispered, not wanting to look at his face and see the disappointment she knew he would feel. _

_"I understand. I screwed up, Allie, I know I did. What I did was so wrong, I can't… I don't know why I did it. It was stupid, because I never wanted to lose you." _

_"It's not that, Will. I just don't miss you. I'm happy for the first time in a long time." This time, she looked him straight in the eye. He didn't react, though._

_"Oh." Will looked down at his hands, sighing. "That. Yeah, okay." He smiled bitterly, and ran a hand through his hair. "I don't know what to say."_

_"You don't have to say anything, Will." She meant it, too. Cameron was perfectly content with the knowledge that one day, eventually, Will would figure it all out. If she had any less faith in her fellow men, she would probably write him off as a lost cause. But she knew better. She also knew that he wasn't _her_ cause._

_"Here," he said, reaching beside him and handing her a book. _

_"This is your book!" she exclaimed, smiling. "I love the cover," Cameron remarked, running her hand along the glossy exterior. _

_"Look inside," he suggested. Hesitantly, Cameron opened the book and flipped through a couple of pages until she found what she assumed he wanted her to see. It was a dedication._

_To Allison,_

_You gave me everything, and I gave you nothing in return. _

_I'm sorry._

_"This is a rather public way of saying you're sorry, Will," Cameron admonished. She wasn't sure whether to be embarrassed or touched. _

_"I know," he acknowledged. "It wasn't my original intention to make so grand a gesture, but I ended up changing the ending. When you read the book—I mean, I hope you will—the dedication will make just a tad more sense. I promise."_

_"How'd you get your publishers to change the ending on such short notice?" Her voice had softened considerably. She couldn't help but feel somewhat moved by his efforts. _

_"That's a long story," he responded, looking down at the table. _

_"Ah," Cameron said. That meant that his editor had been involved, probably because she felt as if she had something to make up for. At least, that's what Cameron imagined._

_"You're not coming home, are you, Allie?"_

_"No, I'm not." _

* * *

"I guess that's a start," House grumbled, after he had read the dedication. "Still has a fair amount of groveling to do, though." 

"It wouldn't make any difference," Cameron said, turning to look at House. He held her gaze for a moment, then grunted and turned to look out the window.

"When are we getting this damn thing off the ground?" Cameron rolled her eyes at House's impatience.

"What's your hurry?" she asked, closing the book for a moment. House didn't answer for a long time, but instead continued to stare out the window, watching other planes take off.

"I'm tired of waiting!" he snapped. Cameron sighed, realizing that House was in a mood. She knew it would be futile to attempt to calm him, though she had to admit she was curious as to why he was so upset. The idea that he was in pain crossed her mind, causing her to shoot a glance at his injured leg. House leaned back in his seat, a grimace on his face. When he shut his eyes, Cameron finally allowed herself to frown. She didn't know what to say or do to help him.

"Is there anything in particular that you want to do in Vienna?" Cameron asked, trying to keep her tone light. House turned to look at her, disbelief on his face. When he didn't say anything, she continued. "Well, I was thinking about trying to see an opera. I've never been."

"You've never been to an opera?"

"No. Will wasn't… Well, I was never inclined to go by myself, and I had trouble finding a date. Wait, you _have_ been to an opera?"

"All the cool kids were doing it, I swear," House answered, his hand absently rubbing his injured thigh.

"As if you cared what the cool kids were doing," Cameron countered, smiling.

"So what changed?" he asked, turning to look out the window once more.

"What?"

"Why are you now willing to go to the opera alone?" he elaborated, as if it was the most obvious question in the world.

"I figure I'll miss out on a lot more things in life if I'm too afraid to be by myself." House didn't answer, but continued to stare out the window.

* * *

_Stacy knocked on the door of his office. House sighed, realizing it was time for their Monday lunch date. The weekend at Wilson's had been surprisingly fun—granted, they hadn't done much more than play Xbox, watch baseball, and order takeout. He hadn't wanted to come into work this morning and deal with his wife, or with Cameron. Cameron intuitively understood that, though, and about two minutes after he'd come in this morning, she'd entered his office and placed a mug of coffee on his desk. Then she'd left without saying another word. House had kept an eye on her throughout the morning, watching her at her desk as she checked email, or at the conference table when she finished up some charting. He was somewhat disappointed to find that she hadn't looked in his direction even once. _

_But now he had to deal with Stacy. House grabbed his cane, and the two made their way to the cafeteria in silence. He realized that he just didn't have anything to say to her. When Stacy paid for their lunch without a single comment, House knew that things were serious._

_"So, how was your weekend?" Stacy asked as they sat down in an isolated corner._

_"Good, yours?" House asked, picking up half of his Reuben._

_"I missed you," Stacy replied. "It was very lonely in the apartment by myself." She waited for a reply, but House just took a large bite of his sandwich. "So, do you still feel the same way you did on Saturday?" House waited until he swallowed before answering._

_"Nothing's changed."_

_"See, I've been thinking, Greg. We can work through this, but you have to be willing to try." Stacy was pleading with him._

_"I don't want to, though," he said, trying to not let his frustration seep into his tone._

_"Why?" she pressed. He knew that he wasn't going to get anywhere with her like this._

_"Because I'm done!" he snapped, standing up and taking his sandwich. Stacy rushed after him._

_"Lunch next Monday," she offered._

_"What part of 'done' didn't you understand?"_

_"Well, I'm not, Greg. There are two of us, here. I deserve to have my say. Besides, we need to at least figure out what we're going to do with the apartment, and everything else." It obviously pained her to say that—she pursed her lips as tears appeared in her eyes._

_"Fine," he conceded, his voice softening. He wished he could fast forward to the end of this, when the papers would be signed, and he didn't have to feel guilty anymore._

_"How about you sit down again, and we'll talk about other things instead?" House thought about that for a long moment, unsure. He didn't want to give Stacy unnecessary hope. On the other hand, they'd been married for five years, and together for more, so what difference did a lunch make? With a huff, he sat down. _

* * *

House had been surprisingly silent ever since the plane took off. It wasn't until the flight attendants started to bring dinner that he perked up slightly. Cameron had, in anticipation of dinner, quietly set up House's tray, though he'd been so lost in his own thoughts that he'd barely noticed.

They ate their dinners in silence, though House took several opportunities to sneak peeks at Cameron.

"What?" Cameron asked, amused. After about the twentieth time he'd snuck a glance in her direction, she felt that she had to say something.

"What?" he returned.

"Why do you keep looking at me? Do I have something in my teeth?"

"Well, actually…"

"Wait, really? Where?" Cameron covered her mouth with a hand, embarrassed. House rolled his eyes. "Oh," she said.

"You're way too easy," he remarked. He felt, rather than saw, Cameron lean closer to him.

"Not _that_ easy, I'm afraid." She looked rather smug the next time he looked at her, which was, of course, after a small coughing fit.

"Cameron, do you have any gum?" Chase and Foreman were sitting behind them, and Chase had stood up and leaned over Cameron's seat. House took the opportunity to glare at Chase, though neither he nor Cameron noticed.

"Sure," she responded, reaching for her purse.

"Thanks," he said, taking the offered piece and returning to his seat. House opened his mouth to say something, but then Chase popped up again. "Foreman would like one too."

"Here, how about I give you guys the rest of this? There's a few left." She handed him the pack.

"Awesome. Thanks, Cam." Again, House waited until Chase was seated, and then opened his mouth to say something.

"Don't say anything, House."

"When did you three get so close?" He couldn't help himself.

"Ever since I stopped going to girls' night with Lisa and Stacy, and started spending Tuesday nights with Chase and Foreman."

"Ah," House replied, pretty sure he understood the reason why Cameron had stopped going to girls' night. "Well, then I guess the girls won't be missing you this week."

"Probably not," Cameron agreed, very clearly resigned to the situation. House found some comfort in the fact that she'd found something else to do, though he'd never admit it. He wasn't so happy, though, that Chase was involved…

"At least there's Wilson, who is probably mourning his loss even at this very minute." House knew it wasn't true, but he said it anyway.

"I wouldn't be so sure, if I were you."

"Why do you say that?" Cameron's delighted tone told House that she knew something that he did not.

"No particular reason."

"Liar," he accused. In response, Cameron smiled, annoyingly pleased with herself.

* * *

_"None of us have been here yet, Chase, so let's just give it a try," Cameron urged. Chase rolled his eyes. They were at a new, somewhat- fancy sushi restaurant in Princeton, and Chase had spent most of the time so far complaining about raw fish._

_"I just don't see the appeal!" he exclaimed. Foreman and Cameron shot each other an exasperated look. Though usually the trio spent every Tuesday night together, they were all out on a Friday celebrating a successful diagnosis. All three were soon caught up in the menus, pointing out what they wanted to share._

_They kept up a constant stream of conversation during dinner, each one totally relaxed in the others' presences. Chase even managed to try a piece of tuna, much to the amusement of Foreman and Cameron. In retaliation, though, he covered Foreman's spicy tuna roll with wasabi while Foreman was in the bathroom. This time, Cameron and Chase laughed hysterically as Foreman started coughing violently._

_"I swear to God, Chase…" Foreman threatened. Chase threw up his hands, still laughing. When Foreman reached for a napkin to wipe the tears from his face, it tipped off yet another round of laughter. _

_"Why is it that nothing ever happens to Cam?" Chase wondered. _

_"Well, you guys already make fun of me because I can't use chopsticks," Cameron offered._

_"But hey! Look at you now!" Foreman countered, motioning to Cameron's hands. She was awkwardly, but successfully, using chopsticks to pick up a California roll and dip it into soy sauce. However, as the roll hovered over the sauce, Cameron's grip slipped, and the roll fell into the sauce with a plop. There was a moment of silence before the two men burst into laughter._

_"Guys! It's not funny! I'm never going to get these spots out of my clothes!" Cameron tried to sound serious, but she couldn't help but crack a smile. They finished the rest of their meal, all the while chatting animatedly. After a prolonged discussion about how to split the check—neither Foreman nor Chase liked letting Cameron pay, which she just thought was ridiculous—they still sat at their table, finishing up their sake._

_"Holy crap," Chase said, his eyes wandering to the door. _

_"What/" Cameron and Foreman asked in unison, their heads whipping around. "Holy crap!" _

_Walking through the door was Lisa Cuddy and James Wilson. The two were both smiling, but they stood awkwardly together, in the way that only those on a first date truly could. The trio watched as Wilson slipped off Cuddy's coat, and put his hand on the small of her back to guide her to their table. All three turned to look at each other, utter delight on each of their faces, because they all now knew something that others didn't. _

_Quickly, the three grabbed their coats, and slipped out the front door, doing their best to hide their faces. _

_"Oh, man!" Cameron exclaimed, holding her sides as she started to laugh. "I'm going to have to do some grilling tonight!"_

_"Oh yes, you are," Foreman agreed._

_"Anyone up for a beer?" Chase asked. The other two nodded, and all three were off to their favorite bar, making up wild scenarios concerning the course of the rest of the Wilson-Cuddy date. _

* * *

House had thankfully fallen asleep, which left Cameron in relative peace for the rest of the trip. She watched him every so often, gazing at his peaceful face in repose, or being hypnotized by the rise and fall of his chest. But as they came closer to landing in Vienna, he started to fidget in his sleep, and his face contorted occasionally in pain.

"House," she whispered, placing a hand on his arm. When he didn't wake up, she tried again. He groaned softly. "House," she whispered more urgently, placing her hand against his face, and rubbing her thumb along his cheekbone. Slowly, his eyes fluttered open. She watched as he finally focused on her face. They both sat in silence, staring at the other. Cameron still hadn't removed her hand, and once she realized that, she pulled it back quickly.

House reached into his pocket and pulled out his bottle of Vicodin. Cameron looked the other way, not wanting to watch him take his pills. She could accept that he was in pain, but she also knew an addiction when she saw it.

"Are we close?" he asked.

"Well, they're about to bring around breakfast, so I'd say so," she answered.

"Did you sleep?"

"Not much," Cameron admitted.

"You'll be paying for that later," House warned.

"Thanks for your support," she said, not bothering to hide the sarcasm.

"Any time," he responded in kind, turning to look out the window. Cameron let a smile flit across her features. It was going to be an interesting trip; that much was for sure.


	16. One Week

**Disclaimer: Don't own House!**

**A/N: So, here's another chapter, as promised. Please R&R **_**both**_** chapters… :)**** I lived in Vienna for a summer, so while I can't pretend to be a real Wienerin (or whatever the word may be), I can at least send our favorite couple to a whole bunch of tourist spots armed with suspiciously good knowledge of the U-Bahn. The Opera Toilet unfortunately exists. **

* * *

CHAPTER 16 

House and his team stood by the baggage claim, all four looking somewhat bedraggled. But the three fellows were talking together, laughing, and making jokes. House tried to ignore the easy camaraderie between the three, instead choosing to stand a good ten feet away and scowling at anyone who so much as glanced in his direction.

However, when he looked over to find Cameron practically doubled over in laughter, with a hand on Chase's shoulder, House decided to take action. He had no idea what that action would be, but he started to walk towards them. As he did, though, sirens started to blare, alerting passengers that their luggage was arriving. There was a quick crush to the sides of the conveyor belt, immediately blocking House's path to his fellows. Resigned, House turned away from them, and focused on finding his bag.

"Have you found yours, yet?" House jumped, startled at the sound of Cameron's voice beside him.

"Nope, you?"

"Not… ah!" she made a pleased noise, and reached for a suitcase.

"You know, Cameron, that we're only here for a week, right?" House eyed the suitcase, which he was pretty sure would last him a summer.

"Well, I don't travel light, what can I say? I had to prepare for all occasions."

"Oh?" He was intrigued. "And what kind of occasions are you prepared for? Please, _please_, tell me there's something dirty in there."

"I guess there's only one way for you to find out, isn't there?" Cameron threw that comment over her shoulder as she headed towards Chase and Foreman.

"Not fair!" House called after her. He looked down at the floor, unable to stop a small smile. When he looked back at the baggage claim, he saw his bag, and with a small grimace, he hauled it up and onto the cart.

* * *

"So, how are we getting to our hotel?" Chase asked once everyone had retrieved their belongings.

"Train, then subway," House answered, looking up and following the signs to a train that would bring them to the center of the city.

"By the way, does anyone speak German?" Foreman asked, as if realizing for the first time that they were spending a week in a country where not everyone spoke English.

"Mais oui," House replied.

"I'm pretty sure that's French," Chase said, rolling his eyes.

"Come on, didn't you know that everyone speaks English nowadays? Who needs to learn any other language?" House stopped for a moment, taking a moment to read a sign.

"Since that sign is in German, I'm assuming he speaks German," Cameron noted to no one in particular. "Personally, I don't think my one year of high school German is going to get me very far."

"Well, that's one more year than I had," Foreman offered.

"Don't worry, it's not that hard," House said, starting to walk again. "You first need to learn a few small words, and then you just have to put them together to make up one big word. Take, for instance, the word for 'sky.' All you need to say is 'blue-thing.'"

"My three years of college German begs to differ," Chase interrupted. "The word for 'sky' is actually…"

"And always put the verb at the end, no matter what. 'I doctor am.' Pretty simple." House didn't even acknowledge Chase's comment.

"Again, that's not completely…" Chase trailed off when House increased his pace, attempting to get out of earshot. Not that he needed a particular reason to ignore Chase. Foreman and Cameron gave Chase a sympathetic look.

"You'll have to give us a lesson later," Cameron whispered. Chase shot her a thankful grin.

The trio of fellows was following House's lead, occasionally running to keep up with his pace. It wasn't until they were finally seated on the train that they all could take a minute to relax.

Cameron had quickly settled herself, standing by a window in order to watch the landscape pass by. She couldn't help the grin that broke across her face.

"What are you so happy about?" House asked, suddenly appearing to her left.

"I'm just excited. I've never been here before," she replied, her grin never fading.

"Here as in Vienna?"

"Take your pick: Vienna, Austria, central Europe, Europe…"

"Seriously?" House couldn't hold back his surprise.

"Yeah. I got my passport for a belated honeymoon in the Caribbean that Will and I went on a few years back, but other than that I've never been out of the country." She shrugged in response to House's disapproving look. "I've always wanted to travel. Unfortunately, I just never had the opportunity or the means."

"Well, you've got a lot to make up for, then."

"Yeah, I do," she agreed. "I really hope to make it to Italy one day. I want to see Florence, Rome, Venice, and Naples. You know, the works. In the meantime, though, I'm going to enjoy Vienna."

"Well, you're not going to be able to do that at some stuffy conference, you know." House had a mischievous glint in his eye. "You know what you're going to have to do? You're going to have to _skip out_ on most of the conference in order to be able to truly experience the city."

"Is that so?" Cameron asked, amused.

"Oh, definitely. But you won't want to do all of that by yourself, you know. Vienna is a very dangerous city, and it wouldn't do for a young, helpless woman such as yourself to go around unaccompanied."

"Actually, I've heard that Vienna was really safe…" House made an exasperated sound.

"Of course they would _say_ that, but the truth is that you'll need an escort. Preferably one who speaks German."

"So, you're thinking Chase?" Cameron enjoyed the momentary flash of jealousy that passed through House's eyes. But he quickly recovered.

"Of course not," he responded, as if she were the biggest idiot he'd ever met.

"Then who? Foreman?"

"You're just trying to make this difficult on purpose, aren't you?" Cameron opened her mouth to respond, but the train suddenly lurched to the side, throwing her into his chest. She grabbed onto his waist, just as House reached out with his right arm to balance her. "Finally, something goes my way," he joked. They stood there for a moment, enjoying the proximity, until Foreman coughed loudly. A blushing Cameron removed her hands and turned to look out the window, so she missed the venomous glare that House sent in Foreman's general direction. Foreman was unfazed, however, and only raised his eyebrows in response.

House turned to watch Cameron, secretly enjoying the pleasure evident on her face. Her cheeks were slightly flushed, and a smile seemed to be permanently stamped on her features. But what really hit him were her eyes. They were sparkling. There was no other phrase for it, though he probably could have added something corny like: they were sparkling like the world's most precious diamonds. Okay, he would never have said that. But he wasn't corny; he was simply entranced.

"Are you excited?" he asked, though he obviously knew the answer.

"Of course!" she replied, finally turning to look at him. "Are _you_?" The question was asked with a different tone of voice, one with a more urgent undercurrent. House frowned for a moment, burdened with the knowledge that she was asking more than one question.

"Surprisingly so," he replied. That seemed to satisfy her, though, as she shot him a quick smile. "It should be an interesting vacation."

"Funny, because I thought we were here to go to a conference."

"Well, it appears you've been horribly misled."

"I'm glad. This way, there's more time to explore the city and hopefully make a few…discoveries." _Again with the layers of meanings! _House thought.

"You know, you should stop speaking in code, and just say what you mean." House had leaned forward to whisper in her ear, taking the opportunity to breathe in her perfume, a heady mix of rose, soap, and _her_.

"That's too easy," she scoffed.

"Of course, how stupid of me." He leaned back, turning his attention to the slowing train. "I think we're here," he added needlessly.

* * *

They quickly navigated the subway system, mostly due to House's apparent German skills, and got off at Karlsplatz.

"House, do you know where you're going?" Cameron asked, running up to his side, and warily eyeing the sketchier types that seemed to loiter within the station. There was an interesting mix of people: obvious tourists (with the Americans being the most obvious, though there was a fair amount of what Cameron thought was Russian), businessmen and women, as well as students.

"I know exactly where I'm going," he responded, filled with the inexplicable male sense of certainty that arose whenever a man was navigating. Cameron only gave him a _look_, though, in response, so he rolled his eyes and pointed up at a sign. "Oper. That's where we're going."

"Oper?" she repeated. "What does that mean?"

"Just add an 'a' to the end of it."

"Opera?"

"She can spell! I'm so proud of you, Cameron."

"Why are we going to the Opera with our luggage?"

"We're going to our hotel."

"Our hotel is at the Opera?"

"Geez, Cameron, I didn't think you were this dense. Our hotel is _across the street_ from the Opera." They were approaching a set of escalators. As they did, though, they slowed down, entranced by the sudden appearance of music. To their left was what all four would later describe as their first truly bizarre Viennese experience. Big letters advertised an OPERA TOILET.

"You've got to be kidding me," Chase remarked, clearly shocked.

"I know! That's not opera! It's a Strauss waltz!" House exclaimed. But they all stood there for a minute, entranced by the idea of a toilet in the middle of a subway station made up to look like an opera house, and which only seemed to play waltzes. Maybe the Viennese wanted to add a classy touch? "You have to _pay_?" House yelled, suddenly enraged. "You've got to be kidding me! I'm so out of here."

The three fellows stood for a moment longer, now pondering the idea of having to pay to pee, but soon followed House's lead, and went up the escalator. None of them, however, could take their eyes off of the offending Opera Toilet until they were hit by sunlight.

"What's that?" Cameron gasped, looking at the large building right in front of them.

"The Opera," House replied, smirking.

"It's so…"

"Ugly?" House supplied. Cameron shot him another look. "Hey, I'm just repeating what the Viennese said on first impression."

"What do you mean?" Chase asked, drawn into the conversation despite himself.

"They thought it looked like a train station. One of the architects even committed suicide, most likely as a result of the criticism." He paused to look up and take stock of the building. "Too bad eighty percent of it was destroyed during World War II. You're just looking at the replica."

"I like it," Cameron announced, still gazing at the Opera. House groaned.

"Of _course_ you would. I tell you that other people don't like it, so you have to take pity on it. It's a building, Cameron, its feelings won't be hurt, I assure you." Cameron only smiled at him in response. House rolled his eyes, and continued to walk along the opera.

"Wait, what are those?" Cameron asked with the glee of a young child in a candy shop. "Look!" She pointed to the ground. Foreman, Chase, and House followed the direction of her finger, finally landing on two squares in the sidewalk. "Gustav Mahler?" she read out loud. "Alban Berg? Who are they?"

House just stared. He couldn't do anything else. There were two squares imbedded in the sidewalk, both of which seemed to be parodying the stars on the Hollywood Walk of Fame, only instead of George Clooney, there was Gustav Mahler.

"They're composers," House answered.

"They really take classical music seriously here, don't they?" Foreman asked, not really expecting an answer. The two stars spoke for themselves. After another moment, the group continued. They stood for an unbelievably long time at a light, and then crossed the street.

"Here we are!" House announced, walking a bit to the left and motioning towards a door. Cameron, Chase, and Foreman all stopped in their tracks. They looked up at the building, then across the street at the opera, then the building again, before finally settling on House.

"Here?" Cameron asked.

"Fine, if you don't_want_ to stay in a five-star hotel, I'm sure we can find something more modest. There's a tourist office…"

"No, no," Chase interrupted. "I think we're fine with the five-star hotel."

"As long as we're not paying for it," Foreman added under his breath. They walked through the entrance, doing their best to play it cool. It wouldn't do to start jumping up and down shrieking with joy, right? The three waited while House checked in, waving to the desk clerk when she glanced in their direction, presumably to check their passport photos next to their faces. They all started to smile in anticipation when House approached them, keys in hand.

"So, here's the deal: we've got two suites, which means four bedrooms and bathrooms with shared living rooms. Who wants to share with who?" House was making a show of not looking at Cameron. Foreman hesitated, looking between his boss and his friend. He'd picked up on the intensity between those two; that much was for sure. Maybe it wouldn't be such a…

"I call Foreman," Chase said, neatly solving everyone's problems. When all three turned to look at him in consternation, he shrugged. "I'm not sharing with House," he explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world.

"Yeah, but _not_ picking the hot chick was _so_ the wrong way to go," House countered, moving towards the elevator. "You've got a lot to learn."

* * *

Cameron had suddenly grown very serious, which darkened the mood slightly as they packed into the elevator and made their ways to their rooms. Foreman and Chase were on a completely different floor, so House and Cameron were on their own. It was still early in the afternoon, so although they all felt like they could sleep the rest of the day away, they'd decided to head out for lunch together, followed by some sightseeing.

"So, here we are," Cameron said, cursing herself even as the words tumbled out of her mouth. House gave her an exasperated look, and opened the door. "Oh my God!" she exclaimed, taking in the room. She ran past an amused House, calling a bedroom even before he had a chance to close the door. "House! This is amazing! Come look!"

He put down his bag, and followed the sound of her voice to an open window. She had the same wondrous look that she had in the train, and he took a moment just to watch her. Then she turned to him, smiling, and motioned him over. He went to stand behind her, and looked over her shoulder at their view. It wasn't an ocean view, or anything like that, but rather a view of the back of the Opera and all the bustling crowds of people below.

"Isn't it great?" she asked breathlessly. House watched her face, resisting the urge to simply wrap his arms around her waist, and draw her against his body.

"Yeah, it is," he responded, never taking his eyes off of her face. At that moment, Cameron stiffened slightly, apparently realizing that House was much closer to her than she'd originally believed. Then, for some unknown reason, she relaxed.

"I'm going to take a shower," she announced, turning around. House continued to stare at her, and Cameron resisted the urge to squirm under his penetrating gaze.

"Sounds like a plan. I'll do the same," House agreed. "I assume you want to take_separate_ showers."

"Of course," she said, smiling.

"Oh well. Your loss." But neither had made a move to leave. Instead, Cameron placed both hands against House's chest, and House finally gave into his urge, and wrapped his arms around her waist, hesitantly drawing her closer to him.

"House, are you sure sharing a hotel room for a week is really a good idea for us?"

"Why not?" he asked, slowly running his hand over her back. She closed her eyes for a moment, and took a shaky breath. As she exhaled, she leaned further into him.

"Are we…are you ready? What about Stacy? I told you that I'm not going to…" Cameron broke off when House slipped his wandering hand under her shirt, and brushed his knuckles against the soft, sensitive skin under her ribcage. "I can't concentrate when you do that," she admonished.

"Good," House said, grinning. Moaning softly, Cameron placed her head against House's chest, and moved her arms to encircle his waist.

"You didn't answer my question," she reminded him as she splayed her fingers against the hard planes of his back, lightly digging her nails into his skin.

"We have a week, Cameron. One week. Let's enjoy it; let's enjoy each other. For a week, let's forget about everyone else. I'm…I've been staying with Wilson for a month." Cameron knew what he meant by that last sentence. He just didn't want to mention Stacy's name. "And you've been avoiding me for a month, so we have some lost time to make up for." He drew her even closer, crushing her hips against his.

"You? Wanting to spend time with someone other than Wilson? I don't believe it," Cameron joked, the lightness of her tone undermined by the undercurrent of desire. In response, House placed a hand softly on the side of her face, and urged her to look at him. She couldn't help but gasp when she saw the sudden intensity in his eyes. "One week," she agreed. "One week."

"Cameron?" She whimpered in response. "Be quiet." He kissed her softly, and then drew back to gauge her response. House smiled when he saw the heat of desire flush her cheeks.

"House," she whispered. He remembered when she had first said his name like that—a lifetime away in Cuddy's bathroom—and he was inordinately pleased that this time he could kiss her without any fear of interruption.

Except for the phone. The god damned ringing phone. They both stood still, neither wanting to break the mood, but the damage had been done. Cameron let go of House, and went to answer it.

"Hello? Hi Chase. Yeah, the rooms are pretty awesome." A pause. "Sure, we're just going to take showers, then we'll meet you downstairs." Another pause. "Sounds good. So, I'll see you in forty-five minutes. Okay, bye." She hung up the phone violently, unable to hide her frustration.

"Forty-five minutes, I know," House said, equally as frustrated. They both stared at each other for a long moment. "I'm going to go take a very, very cold shower," he announced, stalking off to his bedroom.

Once inside, he shut the doors and threw open his suitcase. To his surprise, he saw a box of condoms on top of his clothing. House certainly didn't remember packing a box of condoms. There was a post-it note attached, though.

House,

A boy scout is always prepared.

Wilson

House smiled, tossing the box onto the nightstand. What would he do without Wilson?


	17. A Walk in the Park

**Disclaimer: Don't own House!**

**A/N: I'm sorry it took me so long to update—I was out of the country for a little while. You guys are all awesome. Your reviews make me happy. (And I'm glad people enjoyed Wilson's little present…) If anyone's interested, I posted the first chapter of a new story I'm writing. It's another House/Cam AU (because I can't seem to help myself), but a little darker and with a little of the supernatural thrown in. I don't imagine it will be everyone's cup of tea, but you know what happens when you come up with an idea and then it won't leave you alone… **

* * *

CHAPTER 17 (whew…)

A little while later, Cameron and House stood side by side in the elevator. Though there was no one else riding with them, they stood so close together that their shoulders brushed every time Cameron or House took a breath. Once the door closed, Cameron reached out and grabbed House's hand. He looked down at the floor, letting his hand stay limp for a brief moment, but then he slowly curled his fingers around Cameron's hand and squeezed gently. She attempted to hide the smile that broke out over her features by turning her head to the side.

"No need to look so smug," he grumbled.

"I do not look _smug_. That's your job, if I remember correctly." The doors opened, and the two reluctantly let go of the other's hand. But House didn't move away from her, and instead leaned in to whisper,

"Just wait until tonight. I'll show you all the reasons why I should be smug." Cameron blushed deeply, her color still not fading as they approached Chase and Foreman.

"Cameron, are you okay? You look a little flushed," noted Chase, currently the least perceptive man on Earth.

"Oh, I'm fine," she answered. House, damn him, just looked smug.

"So, anyone have any ideas about where to eat?" Foreman asked, trying to relieve the tension between his boss and his friend. They all just shrugged. "Well, since we're in the center of the city, I'm guessing everything is going to cost an arm and a leg."

"It's okay," House announced, reaching for his jacket pocket. "Cuddy is paying!" He whipped out his wallet, and showed them the hospital credit card.

"In that case…" Chase started, motioning towards the door, "I say we go wherever we feel like."

"I want a Wiener schnitzel!" Cameron exclaimed. "Can we try to find a place where I can get a Wiener schnitzel?"

"When in Wien…" House shrugged.

Eventually, they found a little place near Stephansplatz where they could sit at tables on the sidewalk and enjoy a little of the nice May weather. Cameron was able to raise a menu to her face and hide a smile when House scooted his chair closer to her. She continued to hide her face as House reached under the table, and put a tentative hand on her thigh. Still smiling, she surreptitiously placed a hand on top of his. They sat like that until the waitress came to take their order. When House ordered a beer first, everyone turned to look at him.

"It's two in the afternoon," Foreman pointed out. "Don't you think that's a little early to start boozing?"

"Not in Austria!" When all three astonished fellows turned to the English-speaking waitress, she nodded in agreement. Then, all three proceeded to order their own beers, along with Wiener schnitzel all around. Chase, Foreman, and Cameron all struck up a conversation, each one pulling out their guidebooks and comparing restaurant ideas, potential museum visits, and so on.

"Well, what should we do after this?" Chase asked.

"Maybe we should just walk around the First District a bit, and get a feel for the city," Cameron suggested.

"Wait, are we suddenly a _group_?" House asked, clearly offended by the idea. The other three rolled their eyes.

"What are you going to do, then?" Cameron asked, smiling. House thought about that for a moment.

"I have a few ideas," he answered, turning to look at Cameron. There was no missing the suggestion in his eyes, and she couldn't help but blush furiously. Foreman rolled his eyes.

"Well, I think it would be _nice_ to wander around for a bit, and then we can split up and do our own things." Cameron replied, glaring at House, who, in return, only raised an eyebrow. Even that managed to be suggestive, though, so she turned away from him.

Thankfully for her, at that moment their Wiener schnitzels appeared.

"It's a hunk of meat!" Cameron exclaimed, regarding her lunch with a rather quizzical look. "Just a hunk of fried meat."

"Deliciously fried meat," House amended, reaching for his utensils.

"Gotta agree with him there," Chase said. Foreman immediately seconded.

"I'm so tired," Cameron announced, yawning. "Maybe we should just take a nap this afternoon instead."

"I'm up for that idea," House replied, adopting an innocent façade. She wasn't buying it. Instead, she shot him a look, and kicked him underneath the table.

"You okay, House?" Chase asked, still the least perceptive person on Earth.

"Oh, I'm fine. Just a tiny, insignificant twinge." This time, it was Foreman who wasn't buying it. He looked at a blushing Cameron, and then at an amused House, and began to wonder just what the heck was going to go on in that hotel room. No, on second thought, he really didn't want to know the answer to that question. But what he _did_ know was that he was not, in any way, going to put up with an afternoon of watching House and Cameron make eyes at each other and listen to House's continual stream of double entendres.

Foreman furtively glanced at House and Cameron throughout the rest of the meal, noting the small looks that they shared. He never thought he'd say this, but he if he didn't know any better, he would have said that House looked _happy_. He even smiled once or twice. Cameron, on the other hand, was absolutely glowing. She never looked as beautiful as she did right now, basking in the warmth of House's attentions.

It made Foreman kind of sick, to be honest. Not that he thought it was _wrong_, no, but he didn't need to be a witness to it. So it was with little regret that as soon as lunch had been paid for, he dragged Chase away with him. He figured an afternoon with Chase was better than having to watch House and Cameron flirt. Most of all, though, he hoped that nothing would go horribly wrong between those two. He was not looking forward to the prospect of having to beat up his boss.

* * *

As Chase and Foreman headed off, House and Cameron stood and watched until the two men disappeared around a corner. Then, somewhat shyly, they turned to look at one another.

"So, opera tonight?" House asked.

"What did you say was playing?"

"I didn't; but it's The Magic Flute."

"I've never seen it." House just shook his head in response. "What?" she asked, suddenly defensive.

"How is that you could have gone so far in life _without_ having seen the Magic Flute? How am I supposed to let you leave here with having seen it?" he asked, throwing his hands up in the air. Cameron started to laugh. House stood there awkwardly, not understanding her outburst. "What?"

"No! No!" Cameron exclaimed, wiping tears away from her eyes. "It's just… I don't know. You looked… cute when you said that."

"So you laughed." Cameron, despite her efforts, started to laugh again. Her laughter was so infectious that even House couldn't help but smile.

"I don't know. I just like that you're so excited about taking me to the opera." Cameron lowered her gaze, and then looked up at him, batting her eyelashes. House made a disgusted noise, which was mitigated by the smile pulling up the corners of his mouth.

"Who said anything about excited? I'm just trying to make up for your extreme lack of education. Anyway, we should probably get standing room tickets, which means we'll have to go wait in line at some point. Probably in a couple of hours." He said this all with a very matter-of-fact tone, but the unspoken question seemed obvious to Cameron.

"So, what should we do in the meantime?" she asked, damning the sudden pounding in her chest. House turned to look at her, and there was no missing the longing in his eyes. He frowned slightly, clearly unsure about something. Cameron tried not to feel apprehensive as she waited for him to answer. She stood, shifting her weight slightly from foot to foot.

"I hear there are a bunch of nice parks around here," House suggested. "We could go sit down for a while. There's plenty of time to see the city later."

"That sounds nice," Cameron replied, smiling. She smiled at House, and he was pretty sure that as long as she smiled like that he would do anything she wanted. He continued to watch her as she took out her map and looked for a nearby park. Her brow furrowed and her lips puckered as she studied the map, and all he could think about was how he wished he could kiss her forehead until it was smooth and worry-free once more.

That thought surprised House. Random—and public—acts of affection were not his thing. But resisting the urge to sweep Cameron in his arms and kiss her on a crowded street was proving to be more difficult than he would have thought. So, he stood behind her, looking over her shoulder at the map. Cameron leaned back ever so slightly into him, and for a moment neither was thinking about the map or the park.

"I think we should go in that direction," House announced, pointing in finger in a direction. Cameron nodded, and the two of them set off.

Eventually, they found their way to a park, talking as they went along. Neither was willing to bring up a topic of any depth, so they focused mainly on work, discussing the past few cases they'd worked on. Cameron loved to watch House when he talked about medicine. He grew animated and passionate, his eyes lighting up as he gesticulated with his free hand. They were still talking about medicine as they sat down on the grass. The sun was shining, and Cameron closed her eyes and lifted her face to the sky.

"You'll get sunburned," House admonished.

"I don't care; it feels wonderful." They both sat in silence, letting the sun warm their bodies. Eventually, House grunted and lay down on the grass.

"Why did you marry… your soon-to-be-ex-husband?" he asked, his eyes still closed. Obviously he couldn't bring himself to say Will's name. It had been a question that House wanted to ask for a long while now. He was just never sure when the right time was to ask a question like that. But, thinking about what this week could hold in store for the two of them, he figured it would be best to get a few things out of the way. House shook his head. Since when did he deliberately _not _try to sabotage a relationship? Cameron sighed and lay down next to House.

"He was dying," she replied, her voice softening.

"What?" House's eyes snapped open.

"Stacy didn't tell you?" She frowned. "He had cancer. We were in love, and we wanted to do something that, I guess, would bind us forever. Something corny like that, you know? We wanted to prove it was real." A beat. "He didn't die, as I'm sure you've noticed."

"That's why you didn't leave him sooner," House stated. A few puzzle pieces were coming together for him.

"Yeah," Cameron whispered. "I suppose."

"Did you know he had cancer when you met him?" His tone was casual, but Cameron knew that her answer would be important to House.

"No," she responded, shaking her head. "He was diagnosed a few months into our relationship. We stuck together, obviously. But, he…he changed once his cancer went into remission."

"So he wasn't always an ass?" House asked, half serious.

"I think he's always been an ass, but I wasn't ever willing to admit it. It was different though," she admitted. "I was happy at some point."

"But not recently," House pushed.

"No, not recently," Cameron agreed. She turned her head to the side to look at House. He was staring up at the sky, one hand lazily placed on his stomach. His hair was slightly tousled and Cameron resisted the urge to run her fingers through it.

"You're not going to grill me about Stacy?" he asked, clearly amused.

"I figure that if you actually wanted to talk about it, you would. All _I_ need to know is that you're not going back to her. Because, honestly, if there's any chance that that could happen…" she trailed off.

"You… don't need to worry."

"Then that's all you have to say." There was a pause, and she smiled. "Unless, of course, you have some good gossip to tell me." House turned to look at her.

"From your _extremely_ satisfied tone on the airplane, I have a feeling that you have some_extremely_ good gossip to tell me." He raised an eyebrow, waiting for a response. Cameron thought about that for a moment.

"It's not my place to tell you," she announced. House turned onto his side, and propped himself up.

"What? You won't tell me something?" He sounded amused. With a lazy smile on his face, he took his free hand and softly placed it on Cameron's stomach. He slowly lifted the hem of her shirt with his thumb, until a small amount of skin was revealed. House hid a grin when Cameron's breathing was suddenly just a bit heavier. Shooting a quick look at her face, and noting her slightly wide eyes, House started to trace circles on her exposed skin.

"So, what was that good gossip that you wanted to tell me?" he asked again.

"Hmm?" Cameron closed her eyes as he placed his warm palm against her waist, his hands drawing her closer to his body.

"Oh, you know, that gossip." He leaned down to place a lingering kiss on her forehead. House smiled against her cheek as Cameron started to squirm, almost unnoticeably, in his grasp.

"I…ah, don't know what you're talking about," she gasped. Her eyes snapped open as House's hand left her body. When she saw House's amused expression, she frowned. _Two can play at this game_, she thought.

"Well, if you're not going to tell me, then I guess I don't have any use for you," he said, the playfulness and lust in his eyes taking away any harshness that his words might have conveyed. But now it was his turn to frown as Cameron lifted a hand and placed it against his chest.

"Oh, I'm afraid you're going to have to try harder than that," she whispered. House closed his eyes as her hand wandered down his torso to his stomach. She stopped as she reached the top of his jeans, and he felt a wave of frustration wash over him as he realized that they were in a public park and he couldn't just… The ability to think was forcibly removed once she leaned into him and placed a light kiss against his neck. It was even more difficult to form a coherent thought as she left a trail of kisses along his jaw, and pressed her body against his.

"I… dammit. I don't think that the Viennese are going to… God, Cameron, you… we're in a park…"

"House?" He looked down at her face, which was beautifully flushed with both desire and amusement. "Shut up." She put a hand on the back of his neck, and drew his face towards hers.

"Yes, ma'am," he replied, smirking.

* * *

The juicy piece of gossip that Cameron knew—as well as Foreman and Chase—was currently getting juicier back in Princeton. Wilson could only thank God that it was still the weekend, because that meant that though the sun was starting to peek through the bedroom windows, neither he nor the beautiful woman in his arms needed to rush off anywhere else. They could just lie here, together.

Or not. Cuddy started to stir, turning over so that she faced Wilson. He watched with a smile on his face as her eyes fluttered open.

"You're not watching me sleep, are you? Because that's kind of creepy," she told him, yawning. Wilson smiled and leaned forward to kiss her forehead.

"I couldn't help it," he replied.

"Am I going to have to add 'stalker' to the list of your faults?" she teased, closing her eyes and lifting her leg over his hip, drawing him closer to her.

"Wait, you're keeping a list _already_?" he exclaimed, mocking surprise. Cuddy laughed, a sensual laugh from deep in her throat. He ran a hand softly along her naked back. "How about the list of my better qualities?"

"Hmm, I can think of a few," she said, moaning softly as he kissed her neck.

"Like how I'm going to cook us an _amazing_ breakfast later this morning?" he prompted. She nodded, grinning.

"But I'm not hungry yet, Wilson."

"You know, you can have permission to call me by my first name," he scolded her. Wilson was confused, however, when she opened her eyes and frowned at him.

"I know. It's just…" she trailed off, leaning back against the pillows. Wilson, like any normal man would be, was completely and utterly confused._How do women do that?_ he wondered.

"I'm happy… James," she smiled when she said his first name, though it still sounded strange to both of them. "For the first time in a long time."

"So am I," he whispered. "What's the problem, then?"

"Well, I can't help but wonder what's going to go wrong. Will you get bored and move on to someone else? Will I get bored and move onto someone else? Will you finally get sick of me working late nights and rushing off to the hospital? Will I feel nervous every time I catch you talking to a beautiful woman?" She opened her mouth to say more, but Wilson stopped her with a finger to the lips.

"Whoa, hold on there. First off, we've been at this for about a month or so, and we've known each other for much, much longer than that. I haven't been bored with you in all that time, so I think that's a good start. Secondly, I'll probably be working a lot of those late nights too. We'll just have to make time for each other. But why worry about all of this now? Why plan ahead for things that may never happen?" His tone was soft but firm, which seemed to allay her fears somewhat. It was remarkable to him that a strong woman like Cuddy could ever feel any doubt about her attractiveness. That was only normal, though. God knows that he's felt the same way before… "Sometimes, I catch myself thinking how lucky I am that someone like you would ever be interested in someone like me."

"Oh, _come on_," Cuddy groaned. But Wilson could see the pleased look on her face.

"No, as corny as it sounds, it's true. I… I probably haven't deserved a second chance like this. At least, not with women." He grinned at her.

"Don't you mean fourth chance?"

"Yeah, okay, rub it in."

"Well, you've obviously been doing something right," she suggested. Wilson was still grinning, and pulled her closer to him.

"Damn right," he replied. Cuddy laughed again, and he could see the worry leave her face. "Right now, let's just take things as they come."

"Thank God for second chances," she whispered, somewhat seriously.

"Well, I figure House is on chance number…"

"Four hundred and thirty eight?"

"So, I think I've still got a few more to go." There was a pause as Cuddy seemed to think something over.

"Did you really just mention House in bed?" There was another pause as Wilson made a face. "Yeah, okay, just as long as you never, ever do that again."

"Deal," Wilson readily agreed.


	18. A Night at the Opera

**Disclaimer: I don't own House.**

**A/N: Sorry guys, for the length of time between updates. School has been hectic; there was a death in the family, etc. Writing this fic (and my other one) and reading your reviews really are stress relievers, though. So, I hope you guys enjoy it too. Um, if you've never seen/heard The Magic Flute, BOY are you missing out. **

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CHAPTER 18

House was thoroughly engaged in the task at hand—namely, making out with Cameron like they were back in high school—until he heard someone giggle. Reluctantly he looked up, though his hands were still firmly planted on Cameron's body.

"Cameron?" he whispered. She groaned, and it took House all of his willpower to continue speaking. "We have an audience." Immediately, she shot up and followed House's gaze. Standing fewer than two feet away was a girl no older than seven, who was clearly amused by the sight before her. When Cameron and House both started to blush, the little girl laughed and ran away. Sheepishly, the couple avoided the other's gaze.

"Maybe we should go somewhere else," Cameron suggested.

"Somewhere where it won't be even remotely possible for us to start making out again?" He sounded somewhat forlorn about that particular prospect.

"Yeah, somewhere like that," She agreed, smiling.

"If you insist." He sighed, and struggled to stand up. Cameron, without saying a word, took his elbow and helped him to stand. House stared at her face, trying to find pity or even disgust, but he saw nothing. Instead, when she caught him staring at her, she just smiled that brilliant smile.

"What?" she asked. Her eyebrow was raised slightly as she slipped her arm through his.

"Nothing," he replied. "Nothing."

"Where are we going?" They began to walk together, though House had to make an effort not to take such long or quick strides so that Cameron, the much shorter one, could keep up. They'd exited the park as quickly as possible, deftly trying to avoid the disapproving glares of some and the knowing smirks of others, and now they were walking towards the city center once more.

"What time is it?" he asked, nodding towards her watch.

"Three-thirty." House made a face in response.

"We've still got a while before the opera, you know."

"Gregory House, what are you insinuating?" She tried for indignation, but failed. "Are you saying you want to go back to the hotel?" Cameron leaned forward to whisper in his ear. She couldn't quite reach, though, so House had to lean down to meet her halfway.

"Oh, no, we don't have enough time for _that_," he replied, as if it was the most obvious answer in the world.

"What? How long do we have?" House smirked when he heard the disappointment in her tone.

"About two hours." Cameron burst out laughing.

"House!" she exclaimed. "You know," she whispered, leaning forward once more. "We don't _have_ to go to the opera tonight."

"What? And let you miss The Magic Flute?"

"Gregory House, did you know that you are by far the most frustrating man on th—…?" Cameron wasn't allowed to finish her sentence, because House had pushed her up against a wall and had kissed her. Just as she started to react, however, he pulled away. She stood there, gaping at him, until he smiled and said,

"If only I'd known sooner that that would shut you up, I would have tried that a long time ago. As it is, how about we enjoy some of this famous Viennese coffee and then we can head on over to the opera?"

"You want to… talk?" Cameron was beyond confused. Ever since they'd landed in Vienna, House was like a completely different person. He was affectionate and, dare she say it, talkative. She turned to look into his eyes, and saw a degree of contentment that she'd never seen before. _It must be the jetlag, right? What the Hell has gotten into him? Where's the real House?_

"No, I want to get_coffee_," he explained. To emphasize his point, he rolled his eyes and started to walk away from her. _Oh, there he is_, Cameron thought, smiling.

"Good. I was worried for a second there," she said, running to catch up with him. "I thought that any second now you'd be asking me to braid your hair and talking about how cute Wilson looks when his hair is messy." House stopped dead in his tracks, and then turned to look at Cameron. His eyebrow quirked slightly and that jumpstarted Cameron's flow of conversation. "Well, not like I think Wilson is cute. I mean, not that he's _ugly_, but really, you know, he's not exactly my type. He's a great guy, and I really like him, but not like _that_ you know. Besides, Cuddy probably…" Then Cameron slapped her hands over her mouth, eyes wide as saucers. House pumped a triumphant fist in the air.

"That was almost too easy, you know," he admonished. "Wilson and Cuddy, eh?" He seemed to ponder this for a moment, his eyes gleaming.

"I was banned from telling you! You can_not_ let them know I said anything," Cameron pleaded, placing a hand lightly on his arm.

"I suppose I could be bribed, you know," House offered with a smug look on his face.

"I'm open to he possibility, I suppose. You'll have to name your price, though." Cameron raised her eyebrows suggestively.

"Oh, I'll think of something," House said. "How about…" he trailed off, dramatically tapping a finger against his chin. "How about coffee and as much strudel as I could possibly eat?" Cameron rolled her eyes.

"Deal," she agreed, holding out her hand. House took her hand, and drew her closer to him.

"What? No attempt at bargaining? You're taking all the fun out of this," he whispered, leaning closer to her. Cameron turned her face towards his and smiled.

"No worries, I'm just conserving my energy."

"I hope so." House kissed her forehead, not daring to kiss her anywhere else. They'd already almost lost their wits in a public park, so they really didn't need to add public street to the list. She sighed and wrapped her arms around House's waist. He stiffened for a moment, and awkwardly placed his hands on her shoulders. When she took a deep breath and relaxed, though, House felt himself relax with her. Slowly he wrapped his arms around her, forgetting about the crowds of people that passed them by. He really didn't know how she did that to him, but at the moment he didn't care.

_One week…_

The reminder echoed through his mind. He had one week to enjoy this. He had one week to forget about all the problems he had with Stacy, and just be with Cameron, without anyone else there to judge him or tell him what he was doing wrong.

_One week to be happy…_ he thought before he even realized it. House frowned, and extricated himself from Cameron's grip. She didn't make a big deal of it, of course, which is what House would have feared. If she'd done that, then he would have had an excuse to suddenly pick a fight with her. This whole week would have probably gone downhill rather quickly after that. Instead, Cameron flashed him a grin.

"Where are we going, then? I might be in the mood for some strudel myself." House just stared at her. "What?" She blushed self-consciously and avoided his gaze.

"Nothing," he answered, his voice soft. "Can you find us a place in that handy guidebook of yours?" Noting the suddenly serious tone in House's voice, Cameron frowned and nodded tentatively. She reached into her purse for her guidebook, wondering what was in store for her for the rest of the day.

* * *

Cameron stood in her place at the opera, thoroughly confused. House had spent the first part of the day acting like the perfect guy, but for the past few hours, he'd been withdrawn and contemplative. Though he'd managed to eat two pieces of apple strudel and then a piece of Topfenstrudel, he hadn't managed to say more than three sentences to her. She knew better than to push him, but she couldn't pretend that she wasn't just a little put out. More distressing, though, was that she already missed the feel of him—his hand on her, his arm brushing against hers, his lips on her neck… Oh God, she was totally hooked. Will was little more than a distant memory, but she felt a similar frustration: she didn't want to be locked out. She didn't want to wait around.

_Allison, get a hold of yourself, it's only been a few _hours_, and you're already paranoid. It's House, you know him, you know what he's like. Just give him space. Give yourself space._ She took a deep breath, and shot a glance at House, who was standing next to her. While standing—or, rather, sitting—in line for the standing room tickets, she'd tried to broach the topic of how his leg would take his standing for a couple of hours straight, but he'd brushed her off pretty quickly. She wasn't going to ask him again, but she knew she'd just be, at least, a little worried throughout the evening.

Suddenly the lights dimmed, and Cameron grew excited, just like a little kid would be on Christmas morning. She couldn't help but grin as the audience started to settle down, and as the tourists surrounding her started chattering excitedly in hushed tones.

"Someday, I'll have to take you to the Metropolitan Opera in New York. They have chandeliers that are raised up to the ceiling once the opera starts," House whispered, though he didn't look at her. Cameron looked down at her hands, trying to hide the pleasure she felt. At that moment, the audience started to clap, and Cameron instinctively joined in, but she turned to House with a questioning look on her face. "The conductor," he told her, nodding towards the orchestra pit.

Indeed, there was a man who had reached the podium, and was bowing somewhat bombastically. Then he turned to the orchestra, and there was a moment of intense anticipation as the hall settled into complete silence. The conductor raised his arms, and Cameron's eyes were locked onto his figure as he gave the upbeat. Somewhere she registered the sound of the orchestra's collective intake of breath. Then there was Mozart.

E flat, C minor, E flat. Three chords. House turned to look at the rapturous expression on Cameron's face as the overture began. Mozart could say a lot with three chords. The first chord rang brilliantly, purely. The second chord heralded troubles and tribulations. (Beethoven, perhaps, was the master of C minor, but Mozart certainly knew a thing or two.) The third chord returned to the notes of the first chord, but it wasn't precisely the same. E flat lost its purity along the way. Three chords to tell you all you needed to know about life: it starts off well enough, then it gets tough, but, assuming you get through it, you can still emerge triumphant. Less innocent, maybe, but still triumphant.

House couldn't take his eyes off of Cameron. She seemed to understand every nuance, color, and emotion of the overture, and her face managed to express each one. It was amazing. When the overture finished, Cameron grinned and began to clap. Startled, House slowly joined in, and then reluctantly drew his attention to the opera.

_Screw it_, he thought after a few minutes. _I've seen this opera tons of times, but I've never seen it with _her He watched as she smiled knowingly while the Three Ladies argued over who should watch over the handsome Prince Tamino, or as she grinned when Papageno explained how he'd like to catch himself a sweetheart. She laughed as she listened to the dialogue between Tamino and Papageno, reading the translation on the small screen in front of her, and House caught himself smiling at her. Cameron never turned to look at him, but she reached over and squeezed his arm.

When Tamino started singing about how beautiful the portrait of Pamina was, Cameron sighed next to him. She was smiling, but somewhat sardonically. House resisted the urge to snort. Of course, it was never that simple. You never fall in love with a person by looking at their portrait. That didn't usually go well in the long term. Cameron knew that. He knew that. But, in the end, Tamino and Pamina's love would be tested. Again, it was never that simple. Especially when your mom was as big a bitch as the Queen of the Night.

House felt like an idiot. He couldn't stop watching Cameron. He loved that she was having fun, that she was enjoying the opera. He loved that her eyes widened whenever the Queen of the Night hit her impossibly high notes. He loved that she laughed at Papageno, and rolled her eyes at Tamino and his occasionally pompous notions of enlightenment. He loved how her fingers unconsciously tapped the beat against her arm._I'm so screwed_, he thought.

During the intermission, they barely spoke a word to each other. It was almost as if Cameron was afraid that speaking would break the spell. Instead, she stared at the stage and the orchestra pit, taking in every small detail. House frowned, wishing he could step back from all of this for a moment. He didn't know how it was possible to feel so comfortable with someone, and yet, at the same time, feel so apprehensive and unsure.

"House," Cameron whispered, just as the lights dimmed once more. She kept her focus on the orchestra pit. "It's okay." Then she began to clap, already like a seasoned opera audience member, as the conductor emerged from behind the orchestra and took his place. House took a deep breath.

_One week…_ he reminded himself as the curtain rose once more.

When House thought about it, Papageno was by far his favorite character. Well, Papageno was everyone's favorite character. He was by far the most flawed, yet he was also the most enjoyable. He was the one who made everyone laugh, and it was his music that you often left the hall singing to yourself. He didn't need to be enlightened to be happy. In the end, all he needed was his Papagena. God, that was corny. But somehow it worked in the opera. Too bad it wasn't that easy to find your soul mate. Though, honestly, "Gregorya" didn't have such a nice ring to it…

Cameron was so glad that she was here. She was glad that she could spend this time with House. She was glad that she'd never seen this opera, because now she was able to see it with him. Right now she could feel his apprehension wash over her in constant waves. Though she was frustrated, she wasn't going to push him. That wasn't going to get her far.

But this opera! Why hadn't she been told about this sooner? She was considering coming here every night this week. Cameron smirked. Maybe not _every_ night. Well, perhaps that depended on House's mood. She never wanted this opera to end. She didn't want the night to end. Sighing, Cameron leaned forward on the railing in front of her. Papageno was by far her favorite character. She couldn't pretend that Papegeno wouldn't drive her a bit crazy if he was a real person. Cameron grinned whenever he interacted with a disguised Papagena, completely unaware that the love of his life was right under his nose.

_Men_, she thought, snorting. House turned to her and raised an eyebrow. Cameron only smiled enigmatically.

But all good things must come to an end, and so, Papageno found his Papagena, Tamino and Pamina's love survived all its trials, and, in between, Tamino found enlightenment. _Or something like that_, Cameron thought. When the lights came up, and the audience continued to clap for the orchestra and the singers, Cameron couldn't help but feel somewhat sad. She'd never have this feeling again—this feeling of experiencing something brand new. Wishing she could cherish it forever, she turned to watch House, who was half-heartedly clapping along with everyone else. Just as the applause started to die down, he turned to her and nodded his head in the direction of the exit. Smiling, Cameron nodded in agreement, and began walking towards the exit. She looked behind her once or twice as she made her way to the lobby, and saw that House was following her a step or two behind.

"Well, that was a lot of fun, House. I'm really glad we came."

"Yeah," House agreed, not looking at her. Cameron pushed open a door, and walked out first. He didn't seem to mind that she held the door for him. The two were walking towards their hotel at a snail's pace. They weren't in any rush, and their hotel was less than a block away.

"I guess I've never really heard any of Mozart's music before. I loved it. I mean, it's just… It sounds so easy, you know? Not that it's simple, or boring, but there's just something sublime about Mozart." She grinned at House, though she had to admit she was a little tentative about sharing her decidedly uneducated opinion with him. House nodded, though, and replied,

"I know what you mean. Well, luckily for you there are still a whole bunch of operas to see, as well as a ton of other works. You could be listening to Mozart for the rest of your life."

"Who's your favorite composer?" It was an innocent enough question, but House grimaced.

"Ask me later." They finished their walk in silence, both suddenly unsure. They rode in the elevator in silence, though, like before, they stood so close that their shoulders brushed with very breath. When the elevator opened, Cameron nearly jumped a foot into the air. House snorted in amusement, and let her walk in front of him. She had the key to the room, and he watched her hands shake slightly as she reached into her purse.

House reached out and placed a hand against her back. Cameron froze. Hesitantly, House lightly traced a line down her back, until he reached her waist. Then he slowly spread his fingers, and squeezed ever so slightly, encouraging her to lean back. He stepped forward at the same time, so their two bodies were pressed together. Cameron sighed as House took a deep breath, inhaling the scent of her shampoo. He placed a light kiss against her neck, and he could feel her pulse dance beneath his lips.

"Cameron, I swear, if you don't open this door in the next two minutes…" Suddenly spurred into action, Cameron found the key, and practically threw open the door. She put her purse down on a chair in their shared space, and then turned to look at House. Her cheeks were already flushed with desire. House couldn't tear his gaze away from her as he slowly shut the door behind him.

"House," she whispered. He could see the nervousness in her eyes, but he wasn't sure what caused it. Hands shaking, Cameron unbuttoned the top button of her blouse, and House's pulse skyrocketed at the sight of the newly-revealed skin. He could see just a hint of a red bra. But before she could unbutton another button, House moved forward and caught her hands.

"Are you sure?" he asked, breathless. Cameron was surprised by the question, and for a moment she didn't reply. Then she reached up, and grabbed the lapels of his jacket. Gazing into his eyes, she slowly slipped the jacket off his shoulders, his arms, until she heard it hit the floor.

"Yes."

* * *

**I'm wondering how people feel about some smut for the next chapter. Let me know.**


	19. The First Night

**Disclaimer: I don't own House MD, which is too bad, I think.**

**A/N: Sorry this took so long to post. There's a bunch of stuff going on, but, you know, it's also because I never realized how hard this kind of stuff was to write. I mean, FUN, but still hard. I have so much more respect for you guys who write good smut. But I hope the wait was, at least, a little worth it. Gotta admit I'm nervous about this.  
**

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House felt relief course through his body when Cameron answered his question. Neither he nor Cameron had bothered to turn on the lights in the room, so when he looked down at her upturned face, House could just make out her shining eyes. Slowly he put his hands on her shoulders and turned her so that she faced the windows. Light from the street cast a warm glow on her face, allowing House to observe her expression. She was afraid. Her eyes were wide and she frowned ever so slightly. Anyone else might not have noticed her apprehension, but House did. He'd spent so long studying her face.

"Cameron," he whispered. "What is it?" Hesitantly, House cupped her cheek with one hand, and let the other hand wander to her waist. He pulled her closer to him, softly caressing her cheek with his thumb.

"I-I want to make you happy," she confessed. "I want to-to please you." Though he couldn't see it, House knew that she must have been blushing because her eyes started to water. Her eyes always watered when she was embarrassed; he knew that. But despite her emotions, she held his gaze. And at that moment, looking into those earnest, honest eyes, something in House snapped. He wasn't sure exactly what it was, but House knew he had to have this woman. He _needed_ her. Now. Forever. He didn't have time right now to ponder that, though somewhere in the back of his mind he knew he would have to.

Without addressing Cameron's worries verbally, House leaned forward and kissed her. It wasn't frenzied or passionate, but rather a soft pressing of his lips against hers. He was letting Cameron take control. She sighed, and leaned back to look into his eyes. For a second she frowned, searching for something. Without changing her expression, she leaned forward again and kissed him. Her lips were slightly parted, however, and when House felt the tip of her tongue against his bottom lip, he groaned. He managed to resist the immediate urge to crush her body to his, and instead let the kiss grow in intensity, all the while keeping Cameron at arm's length.

Frustrated, Cameron stepped closer to him, letting the tips of her breasts graze his chest. He groaned once more, and delicately placed a hand on her back, between her shoulder blades. She broke the kiss, and House had to blink a few times before he could focus again.

"Your bedroom or mine?" she asked. House blinked a few more times, processing the question. _Bed, right, yes. That would be a good idea._

"Uh, mine."

"Good choice." Smiling, Cameron took his hand and led him to his bedroom, careful to take her time so House could keep up. Standing at the opera hadn't done wonders for his leg, and she seemed to instinctively realize that. She gave him a nudge, urging him to sit down on the foot of the bed. House noticed that she made no effort to close the doors behind them, which, to be honest, excited him. He liked the idea that the sounds of their lovemaking could echo through the suite; that nothing would muffle, hopefully, the sounds of her pleasure.

She stood in front of him, her blouse still unbuttoned only enough to allow him to see a hint of a red bra. Cameron followed the direction of his gaze, smirking when she realized what was drawing his attention. He looked up at her with such heat in his eyes that for a second Cameron was taken aback. But, holding that gaze, she soon shivered with desire. The idea that she could do that to him was…intoxicating.

"Should I take this off?" she teased, her fingers toying with the next button of her blouse.

"Yes," he growled. Keenly aware of his attention, Cameron slowly undid the next button. Then she undid the next one; and the next one; finally, the last one. House's breathing had become more labored as every new inch of skin had been revealed, and yet the blouse still hid most of her body. Slowly she brought her right hand to her collarbone, and then with her middle finger lightly traced a line down to her bellybutton. It felt as if her skin was on fire, and the cool touch of her finger did nothing but inflame her further. House's hands twitched by his sides as he resisted the urge to touch her just as she'd just touched herself.

"Come here," he rasped. Cameron took a step forward, her blouse still hiding most of her torso. House reached up and, like she did to him in the living room, slowly pulled her blouse off of her body. Then, unexpectedly, he wrapped his arms around her waist, and drew her towards him. Sighing, House placed his cheek against her soft, smooth stomach. He waited until he felt her fingers wander through his hair, and then he moved his head slightly, lightly scratching her stomach with his beard. Cameron whimpered, and House drew his head back. He began to place open-mouthed kisses on her stomach, and as he did so, Cameron's hands wandered to his shoulders.

"House," Cameron whispered. When he looked up at her, she pushed him back and nodded towards the bed, urging him to scoot towards the pillows. She waited until he was sitting up, watching her, and then she reached behind her, searching for the clasp of her bra.

"No," House said. It was a command, and Cameron raised her eyebrows slightly at his tone, more amused than anything else. "Let me," he ordered. She moved forward onto the bed, and straddled his legs, careful not to place too much weight on his injured thigh. Unable to help herself, she cupped both of his cheeks and kissed him. He responded with ardor, finally crushing her chest against his and growling softly in frustration when he realized he was still wearing his shirt. Cameron instinctively knew what he wanted, and, without her lips leaving his, reached for the hem of his t-shirt. She lightly brushed her knuckles against his stomach as she inched his shirt up, and House moaned audibly. Smiling, Cameron broke the kiss, and quickly pulled his shirt up and off, aided by an impatient House. She hummed appreciatively as her gaze raked over his naked chest. House shot her a cocky grin, which only made her laugh. He smiled too, pulling her forward and placing a kiss on her shoulder.

She shivered as his arms pulled her into a protective embrace and his fingers deftly unhooked her bra.

"You've had practice," she noted, somewhat surprised as he slowly pulled one strap down, careful to keep her breasts hidden.

"Not with you, though," he murmured, placing a light kiss on her collarbone. "Not with you," he repeated, cupping a breast through her bra. This time, it was Cameron's turn to be frustrated as she longed for the feel of his skin against hers. She could feel House smile against her neck. "So impatient," he admonished, his hot breath sending shivers down her spine. He reached for the other bra strap, and, leaning back to watch Cameron's face, slowly inched it down until it reached her elbow.

Cameron had had enough of his teasing, and she quickly reached over and tugged the other strap all the way down, revealing one breast. When House's breath hitched, Cameron smiled. She watched him carefully as she finally tossed her bra behind her. His eyes darkened, and Cameron's breath caught in her throat. Sometimes he had no idea how sexy he was.

"Oh God," he whispered, though he didn't seem aware that he'd said anything at all. Reverently, he cupped one breast, lightly rubbing the pad of his thumb against her sensitive skin. Cameron moaned loudly, exciting House even further, and prompting him to lower his mouth to her other breast. She groaned even louder as his tongue teased her nipple.

"Please, House," she begged. "Oh God, I want you." That broke some of House's resolve, and he squeezed her breast a little harder as his teeth grazed her skin. "Yes," she hissed, grabbing onto his wrist and digging her nails into his skin. The pain only spurred him on, though, and he pulled Cameron closer to him, his beard leaving red marks on her body.

"Cameron, Cameron," he chanted, his hands wandering over her back and stomach.

"You can call me Allison, you know," she suggested. House leaned back and looked her in the eye. He had an amused look on his face as if asking, _You're going to bring that up now?_ She shrugged.

"Why are you still wearing pants?" he asked, so seriously that Cameron threw her head back and laughed. It was a throaty, deep laugh, one that both brought a smile to his face and had his heart beating a little faster.

"Why are _you_?" she countered, reaching down and lightly cupping him. House groaned.

"Minx," he murmured.

"Minx? Who uses that word anymore?" she asked, laughing softly.

"Just shut up and take off your pants," he ordered. Cameron laughed that deep laugh again, causing House to chuckle. She started to unbutton her pants, but then stopped. "What?"

"I don't think I've ever heard you do anything even remotely close to laughing," she responded, eyeing him. House leaned forward, and took over the job of unbuttoning her pants. Cameron couldn't help but smile when he unzipped her rather forcefully. When he noticed her amusement, House growled softly and kissed her. Suddenly the urge to get her pants off was foremost in her mind, and she quickly jumped off the bed and shimmied out of them.

"You left your underwear on," he complained, though the sight of the red lace panties didn't in any way displease him.

"You get to take these off," she replied as her fingertips teasingly pushed down the panties a half inch, revealing even more precious, glowing skin.

"Minx!" he accused once more, reaching for her.

"Just shut up and take off your pants," she ordered. For a moment a dark look crossed House's face, but Cameron deciphered it immediately. Taking off his pants wasn't going to be the easiest thing in the world for him. "Actually, I changed my mind. Just shut up instead." He looked away quickly, but Cameron saw the quick flash of relief in his eyes.

She straddled him once more, making sure she had his full attention. Without saying anything, she tried to convey to him her complete acceptance of him, and, though she would never say it, her love of him. Things were never quite that simple, but looking into his eyes, Cameron knew that she would love House. It wouldn't necessarily happen overnight, mostly because she needed to trust him completely before she could love him completely. But for tonight, it was enough.

House got the message. His own eyes were slightly guarded, as if he wasn't sure quite what to do with the emotions that she was sending his way, but he leaned forward and kissed her softly. It was an intimate gesture, though Cameron couldn't articulate exactly why. He deepened the kiss, reaching for her breasts once more. Cameron quickly undid his belt, and unzipped his pants. House sighed in both relief and frustration, and lifted his hips slightly to allow Cameron to slip his pants down.

It was a moment before he realized that she would see his scar. Cameron immediately saw panic settle onto his features, and immediately understood why.

"House…Greg. Don't." He didn't respond, but instead turned his head to the side, refusing to look at her. She could feel his body tensing.

Slowly, Cameron continued to slide his pants down, keeping her eyes on the belt buckle. His boxers hid much of the scar, but when she finally threw his pants to the floor, Cameron took a peek at his thigh.

It wasn't what she'd been expecting. When she thought about it, she wasn't sure what she_had _been expecting, but that wasn't it. It wasn't hideous, though. It was just…him. She smiled; she couldn't help it. Shaking her head, she straddled him once more, and turned his head to face her. Though his eyes were defiant, telling her that if she was going to leave now, he was _okay with that, dammit_, she caught a slight glimpse of his apprehension. Even the great Dr. House was human. She reached for the elastic of his boxers, urging his hips to lift once more. With a bit more haste, and with a bit more of a flourish, she took his boxers off. Her gaze lingered for much longer on his erection than on his scar, but House still turned his head away from her.

"You're an idiot," she blurted out. He turned and gave her a look. "You," she started, kissing him, "Are," another kiss, "Un_believably_," House began to kiss her back, "Wildly, oh!" She gasped when House reached for her breast, rubbing the pad of his thumb against her nipple. "Sexy!" she finished, crashing her lips against his. He growled, drawing her closer to him, and letting his hand wander over her bare back before settling on her ass. Before she realized what he was doing, House flipped them both over, so that Cameron was lying on her back, with House on top of her. She laughed breathlessly, enjoying the feel of his weight pushing her into the mattress. Experimentally, she arched her back, pressing her lower body hard against his. House's breath hissed out of him as he unconsciously ground his hips against hers.

He was desperately resisting the urge to rip off her panties, spread her legs, and… Slow. Take it slow. House's caresses became calmer, more soothing. Cameron whimpered in frustration, but let herself relax. No need to rush, right?

House left a trail of kisses down to her stomach, with a few detours to make Cameron moan. He was thoroughly enjoying discovering Cameron's body. For instance, there was that noise she made when he kissed the underside of her breast, or the way her body shivered when he grabbed her ass, or, he was just realizing, the look in her eyes while his fingers played with the waist of her underwear.

"God, Greg, _please_," she pleaded, throwing her head back against the pillow as she felt the delicate fabric of her underwear slowly making its way down her legs. Her breath came quickly as House slowly spread her legs, kissing every inch of the inside of her thighs. When she felt his tongue against her clit, she nearly exploded on the spot. Instead, she groaned loudly as she placed her hands on House's head, urging him on. "Don't stop," she moaned. House was more than happy to oblige her. Cameron could feel her orgasm building quickly; but when House inserted a finger into her warmth, immediately searching for her G-spot, the pleasant shock was too much. She came hard, House's name on her lips. House, for his part, placed his forehead against her thigh, groaning loudly as he felt her inner muscles flutter wildly against his finger.

"Jesus, Cameron," he panted, looking up at her. It was probably not possible for Cameron to look anymore beautiful than she did in this instant, with her cheeks flushed, her eyes slightly glazed over, and her hair mussed. His eyes wandered to her breasts, which were rising and falling with every hard breath.

"I want you,"' she whispered, spreading her legs farther apart. House groaned, moving his body up against hers until they were eye to eye. He took a deep breath, staring at Cameron questioningly. She raised an eyebrow, and reached down to guide him to her entrance. "I want you, Greg," she whispered again. At the feel of her soft fingers against his erection, House's body jerked slightly.

It wasn't difficult to slip inside of her, and she quickly brought her legs up and over his waist in an effort to fully accommodate him.

"God, Cameron, you're…" he grunted as she rocked her hips slightly, urging him into a rhythm. "So tight…"

"Oh, Greg!" she moaned as the pace quickened. House watched Cameron's face carefully, thoroughly enjoying the sounds of pleasure she made. She placed her hands against his back, and when she dug her nails slightly into his back, House groaned and increased his pace.

Cameron was overwhelmed. She'd certainly made love with Will, but never _ever_ had she felt as amazing as she did in this moment with House burying himself inside of her. In the back of her mind, she felt a sudden panic as she realized that what was going on between them was only certain for a week. After that… Her eyes shut closed as she pushed that thought away. Instead, she wrapped her legs around House more tightly, whispering encouragement into his ear. He seemed to respond to her sudden sense of urgency, grunting as he thrust roughly into her.

House had dropped his head at some point, but his gaze was directed back towards Cameron when he felt her fingers against his cheek. He saw the emotion in her eyes, and, unable to articulate anything, leaned forward and kissed her. She responded ardently, moaning.

"Greg, Greg, oh God," she panted. House could feel her inner muscles begin to contract around him, and he started to thrust even harder. Cameron screamed, and looked House straight in the eye. What she saw in his eyes, and he in hers pushed them both over the edge.

"Fuck!" he yelled as Cameron came, her fluttering muscles milking his own orgasm from him. "Jesus!" he cried out, collapsing on top of her. After they both gained control of their breathing, Cameron began to hum contentedly, wrapping both her arms and legs around him. For a long while they lay like that, House still buried inside Cameron, until his leg began to throb and the desire for Vicodin was too overwhelming. He rolled off of her, and reached for the nightstand. When his hand reached Wilson's gift instead of his pill bottle, he frowned.

"Uh, Cameron?"

"Can you _please_ call me Allison?"

"Allison?"

"Yes?"

"Did we need these?" he asked, holding up the condoms. There was a pause, which sent House's heart plummeting to his stomach.

"No, we're fine," she replied, her voice calm. House let out a sigh. "But, you know, just in case…"

"Yeah, good idea." He finally found his bottle, and dry-swallowed a pill. When he turned to look at Cameron, he realized that she had slipped under the covers and turned her back to him. House hesitantly placed a hand against her naked back, enjoying the sense of possession that came over him._Mine_, he thought. He laid down on his side, and, while reaching for her, urged Cameron to scoot back until her back was against his stomach. She sighed as he lazily wrapped his arm around her and tenderly cupped her breast through the soft sheet.

"Good night, Allison," he whispered, kissing her neck. She moaned softly, wriggling her ass against him. House couldn't help but smile. "Good night," he repeated. "Well, for now, anyway…" But the truth was, he didn't know how they both had lasted this long—okay, so he had a _slight_ idea—because the jet lag should have caught up to them by now. Tomorrow was another day, though.

Cameron felt, rather than saw, House fall asleep. She let out a huge sigh, feeling a paradoxical mix of utter contentment and utter despair. What if this week was it? What if the moment they got back to Princeton House ran back to Stacy? What if he decided it was too complicated to date his subordinate? There were still too many questions, but Cameron would always, always cherish this night. She resolved to enjoy the rest of the week as if it was their only week.

But, next time, the condoms might be a good idea. Cameron had been so distracted this past month that she hadn't been as religious with her birth control as she should have been. There was no way she was going to tell House that, though. It wasn't as if anything would come of it; the chances were slim. Sighing, Cameron wrapped House's arm tighter around her and pushed away all her negative thoughts and worries. Tomorrow was another day, she told herself. Tomorrow was a day to enjoy being with House, just the two of them. That was enough to put a smile on her face as she finally drifted off to sleep.


	20. A Day in the Life

**Disclaimer: DO NOT OWN!**

**A/N: Not many people reviewed the last chapter, which made me kinda sad. : ( If for some reason it didn't show up on the list or something, let me know. And review! Yay! I also highly suggest you Google images of Schönbrunn. **

* * *

House woke up sometime around three in the morning in need of a Vicodin fix. When he turned to the side, he expected to find Cameron's warm and welcoming body there. A sudden wave of disappointment and apprehension washed over him as he gingerly ran his fingers along the spot where she was supposed to be. It was cold; she'd left a while ago. Curious, House looked up and saw that the door to his room had been closed. He realized that Cameron must have gone to sleep in her bed. For some strange reason, that annoyed House beyond all reason. But what was he going to do? Run over there and insist that she come back to his bed? Uh, probably not.

With a big sigh, House tried to push away all thoughts of Cameron and the reasons why she would have left him to sleep alone. He wouldn't let it bother him.

* * *

"Greg? It's time to get up; we have to meet Foreman and Chase for breakfast." There was a pause as House groaned and turned away from the voice that was disturbing his much-needed sleep. "Greg!" The voice was a bit more insistent, and House felt a warm hand against his naked shoulder. Slowly he opened his eyes and saw a dressed and showered Cameron in front of him. "Morning sleepyhead," she said, smiling.

"What time is it?" he croaked, trying to focus.

"About eight-thirty."

"Eight-thirty? Screw that, I'm going back to sleep."

"No, you're not. We need to eat breakfast, and then we need to register for the conference." She flopped down on the bed next to him, and poked him in the ribs. House growled and wrapped his arms around her, pulling her to him. When he noticed that she was wearing a skirt—the phrase "easy access!" bounced around his head—he lazily began to caress her.

"You know, there's a _really_ effective way to get me to wake up." Cameron laughed aloud as he started to nuzzle her neck.

"No, Greg, we really do have to go. Later, though." She tried to sound serious, but it was hard to concentrate when he nibbled on her neck like that… "Oh God. You have to stop that." Her words lacked any conviction as his hand slipped under her blouse, and wandered up to her breast.

"What time do we have to meet them?" House asked.

"Uh, nine?" she answered, panting heavily. It was ridiculous how turned on she was right now. There was no way that _any_ man should have this much power over her body. And yet, she heard herself say. "That's enough time, right?"

"I think we can manage," House agreed, smiling. He reached for the top button of her blouse, and Cameron closed her eyes. She felt completely and utterly satisfied with life in this moment, and while that scared her, it also freed her. Why shouldn't she be happy? Why shouldn't she enjoy this moment? Cameron dug her fingernails into his back, and she heard him hiss in both pain and pleasure.

"Greg, I need you," she whispered. "Now," she insisted when she saw the slight hesitation in his eyes. Frustrated, she ground her hips against his, and began to pull up her skirt. She saw the moment when he gave in; his eyes flicked to the box of condoms still on his nightstand. When he finally entered her, she felt complete once more. When the earth shattered around her, she held on to him.

_Big trouble_, she thought, echoing Wilson's words to her from long ago. _Big fucking trouble_.

* * *

As it turns out, House and Cameron were only ten minutes late. But, unfortunately for them, their late entrance gave Foreman the opportunity to scrutinize their behavior. He didn't miss the look that Cameron gave House as they entered the dining room. It practically screamed, "I had sex! With this guy! Isn't that awesome?" When she turned to wave to Foreman and Chase, though, she missed the look that House gave her. To Foreman's complete surprise it was a tender, caring look. It was a look of awe, as if House had no idea what he'd done to deserve his good fortune. Foreman wasn't too sure either, but that look reassured him. At least House knew what he had.

"Finally," Chase grumbled as they two made their way across the dining room.

"What?" Foreman asked.

"They had sex," Chase explained, as if it was the most obvious thing in the world. "The tension was killing me."

"You knew?" Foreman couldn't hide his surprise.

"Of course I knew! I'm not an idiot." Foreman paused for a second, and then broke out into incredulous laughter. Sometimes they just didn't give Chase enough credit.

"Hey guys, what's up?" If they had to deal with this insanely cheerful Cameron for too long, though, Foreman wasn't sure he could promise to stay civil.

"Not much, Cam, what about you?" Chase asked, mimicking her cheerfulness. House started to look extremely uncomfortable as Cameron smacked Chase, then as Chase smacked Cameron, and then as the two started laughing.

"So, we'll register as soon as we're done with breakfast, right?" Foreman asked House, oddly hoping to make him feel more at ease. He wasn't quite sure where that desire came from; maybe he just didn't want to watch Cameron and Chase play brother and sister.

"Uh, sure," House answered, clearly distracted. "Though I plan on going to absolutely no sessions whatsoever."

"That's okay by me as long as you show up to the banquet on Saturday night. I told Cuddy I would get you there." House eyed Foreman, clearly unsure why Foreman was being almost _nice_ to him.

"Am I going to be getting a lecture some time soon?" he asked, eyes narrowing. Foreman's eyes flicked to Cameron, who was chatting away with Chase.

"If you show up to the banquet, then absolutely not," Foreman bargained, leaning back in his chair.

"Deal," House said, looking around, obviously praying for a cup of coffee.

"But you _do_ know…"

"Yeah, yeah." House turned to look at Foreman, and surprised the younger man with the sincerity in his voice. "I do know."

* * *

"Can we see an ID, sir?" House stared at the woman in front of him. He was supposed to register for the damn conference, and it was supposed to be simple: give them your name, and you get a packet and a dumb nametag that he'll throw away at the first possible moment.

"What the Hell do you need my ID for?" He growled.

"I'm sorry, sir, it's policy." House rolled his eyes, but reached into his pocket. It was with some surprise that he realized his fingers had brushed against something soft. It was… lacy. He shot a look at Cameron, who was registering in the line next to him. Hesitantly, he pulled out the unknown object and when he realized what it was, his knees nearly gave out. Cameron, mostly likely while he had been showering, had placed a pair of lacy black panties in his coat pocket. She'd placed them right next to the wallet that he needed to take out at this very moment. Crap.

"Uh, one second," he told the woman. With a glare at the unknowing Cameron, he pulled out his wallet and handed the woman his driver's license. He continued staring at Cameron, imagining all sorts of dirty things until the woman cruelly interrupted his thoughts to hand him his damn nametag.

"Are you all set?" Foreman asked behind him. House didn't turn around, still staring at Cameron.

"Yup. I'll see you on Saturday." He could _feel_ Foreman roll his eyes, and that thought made him smirk.

"Saturday, then," Foreman grumbled, taking his leave of his boss. Cameron finally caught House staring at her, and she blushed. He raised an eyebrow and patted his pocket. She blushed deeper, and approached him.

"Are you _trying_ to give me a heart attack?" House asked.

"Not exactly," Cameron deferred. "I was just trying to get your imagination going." She absently ran a hand along the lapels of his coat, and the intimateness and easiness of the gesture made House's heart pound just a little harder.

"Well, mission accomplished," he whispered, feeling the room and people around him disappear.

"Where do you want to go today?"

"Other than the bedroom?"

"Other than that." House hated that he loved her smile so much. He'd do anything to make her smile at him like that. Damn.

"Where do _you_ want to go?" Somewhere at the back of his mind, he knew there was a reason why he had to resist the desire to wrap his arms around her.

"Hmmm. Isn't there a palace around here, somewhere?" The desire to tuck that stray strand of hair behind her ear.

"I think there are a couple." The desire to kiss away the wrinkles from her forehead.

"Uh, what's the most famous one?" The desire to run his hand along her smooth stomach.

"Maybe Schönbrunn? It's where Marie Antoinette spent part of her childhood." The desire to know about her past.

"I want to go there." The desire to know about her present.

"Okay." The desire to be involved in her future.

He was completely screwed.

* * *

House and Cameron made it to Schönbrunn by hopping onto the U4 at Karlsplatz. Cameron sat by the window, and pensively watched the city go by. House had no desire to disturb her thoughts, so the two sat in a companionable silence. When they got off at their stop—conveniently named Schönbrunn—they followed the crowd of tourists until they came upon the palace.

"It's…"

"Big? Yellow? Ugly? Pretty? Ridiculous? In need of some serious…" House's stream of adjectives was stopped by Cameron, who tenderly placed a finger against his mouth. She removed her hand, gave him a quick kiss, and continued.

"It's not exactly what I expected. I think there are gardens in the back, though, that we should see. Are you okay walking for a bit?"

"Yeah," House responded, clearly not happy about having been asked that particular question. Cameron wisely decided not to push the subject any further, but started to walk to the left. When they came upon the back of the palace, Cameron gasped.

"It's beautiful!" It was almost odd to see so much green in the middle of a major city. Those in New York City would have scoffed and pointed towards their own Central Park, but even in Central Park you were surrounded by huge buildings. Here, though, you could forget where you were. There were fountains—"Brunnen" in German—everywhere, hidden away in corners, waiting to be discovered by the adventurous ones in the crowd. Today, House and Cameron were feeling adventurous. They walked all over the park together, talking, making fun of hideously-dressed tourists, and enjoying the other's company.

"No, I don't think that's true," Cameron said.

"Oh, yes, it is."

"No, it's not."

"Yes. It is. Stop being an idiot."

"You can't call me an idiot just because I disagree with you, House."

"Uh, I can when you're being an idiot. The White Album is _genius_." Cameron opened her mouth to respond, but then she just smiled at him. House looked around him, trying to figure out exactly what she was smiling at. "What?"

"You. You're cute." She laughed when he made a disgusted face. "You're passionate, and funny; you're smart." Slowly, she took a step forward so that they were standing next to each other. "And you're still carrying my underwear in your pocket," she whispered, throwing him a sultry look. "You know what that means, right? If it's in _your_ pocket, then _I'm_ not wearing it."

"You know, that thought _had_ occurred to me," House growled, wrapping his arms around her waist, and pulling her close to him. "I wonder if there's an extra bedroom in that huge palace."

"If only," she said, sighing and relaxing in his embrace. "Greg?"

He could definitely get used to her calling him by his first name, though perhaps he wasn't ready to start using hers. "Yes?"

"When we get back…"

"Are you going to try to ruin all of this?"

"No, but…"

"Then don't finish your question." Cameron could feel his body stiffen in her grip.

"How do you know it was a question?" She looked up at him with a refreshingly mischievous twinkle in her eye.

"What is it, then?"

"I know a good sushi place we could try sometime, if you like sushi." House had to bite his lip to keep from smiling. No, it wasn't question, but it might as well have been. It wasn't direct, but he knew what she wanted to know.

"Sounds good."

"Really?" When her voice went up about an octave, he rolled his eyes.

"Like, oh my God, yes." House released her and started to walk away.

"Where are you going?" She ran to catch up with him.

"There's a _zoo_."

"You want to go to the zoo."

"You don't?"

* * *

Later, when House realized he was standing in front of the pandas, eating the biggest pretzel he'd ever seen, and _smiling_, all at the same time, he also realized that something had changed. He just wasn't sure what exactly it was, and if it was a good thing. Usually this was the moment when he would barge into Wilson's office and demand his attention. Then, traditionally, Wilson would give him advice, which House pretended not to listen to. But Wilson was on the other side of the world. Sort of.

"The pandas are boring me," Cameron announced. "They just sit there and look cute."

"Hey, it's kind of like Chase." She smiled at his joke, and then turned serious. House raised an eyebrow when he realized she was staring at him intently.

"Maybe I should go shopping this afternoon," she suggested.

"O-okay. Sure." House tried to play it cool, but he felt a surprising rush of emotions. Part of him felt relieved to have some alone time, and part of him wondered if she was sick of him already.

"Then we can meet up for dinner?"

"Sounds good." He felt a bit more at ease.

"Good. I want to see the lions now."

* * *

A few hours later, Cameron was pretty sure she'd maxed out her credit cards. Well, that was probably an exaggeration, but she'd at least gone a little over the top at H&M. She'd needed something of a distraction, and apparently ridiculous amounts of shopping was just what the doctor ordered. In fact, she'd bought so much that it took some time and effort before she was finally able to open the door to the hotel room, and when she finally did, she tripped over her bags, and landed face first against the rug.

"Ow, ow, ow," she gasped, cringing as she tried to pick herself up off the floor. At that moment, she heard House's familiar step. When she looked to the side, she saw him standing in the doorway to his bedroom, and the sight very nearly took her breath away. He'd obviously been reading something, because his glasses were perched on the tip of his nose, and, well, Cameron had always had a thing for guys who wore glasses. "I fell," she offered.

"Yeah, I'd gathered as much."

"I didn't know you wore glasses," she said. House couldn't miss the breathless quality of her voice, nor could he miss the sudden intensity in her eyes. Apparently he'd have to add "reading glasses" to the list of things that turned Cameron on, which amused him.

"What did you buy?" he asked, thoroughly enjoying her distraction.

"Oh, you know, a few things here and there." She had neither taken her eyes off of House, nor had she tried to get up off of the floor yet. Oh, this was too much fun for him. He lowered his head so that he was peering at her over the rim of his glasses. Cameron's eyes widened slightly, and House couldn't contain himself any longer—he burst into laughter.

"Cameron, seriously? What, did you carry a torch for every bespectacled middle-aged professor in college? Is there a fetish I should know about? I don't think I own any tweed, but I may have a few jackets with elbow patches…" He raised an eyebrow, and watched her blush.

"No, but I have to admit you _do_ look very… distinguished."

"Are you going to get up off the floor now?" House turned around and walked into his bedroom, and was amused to hear her scramble up and off the pile of shopping bags. He took his former position on his bed just as he heard her slam the front door closed, and resumed reading a medical journal. Cameron flopped down on the bed next to him, immediately snuggling up to him. She began to kiss his neck, and her hand found its way under his t-shirt.

"What are you reading?" she asked.

"Something, ah, _very_ important." Not that he'd read a sentence since he felt her lips against his neck.

"Oh, really? What about?" Her voice had dropped an octave, and House had to look up at the ceiling in an effort to keep control.

"The effect of bespectacled, middle-aged, crippled diagnosticians on young, pretty, innocent immunologists. Oddly enough, the phrase 'sex-maniac' didn't show up."

"Clearly they haven't done enough research then," she whispered, halting her ministrations for a moment. House turned to look at her, and saw the seriousness in her eyes. "It's never going to be easy, I know. But right _now_ I'm not going to let any doubts stop me from having an amazing week. Okay?"

"So you _have_ doubts, then," House pointed out. Cameron rolled her eyes, and started to move away from him.

"Way to kill the moo—oof!" He'd reached over and pulled her back to him. When she raised an eyebrow, clearly expecting him to say something, he opened his mouth and then closed it. There was no way that he could possibly say all the things that he was thinking. So, he kissed her. For her, right now, that was enough.


	21. Beethoven Day

**Disclaimer: Still don't own House, MD!**

**A/N: I don't know how everyone else is feeling, but I'm thinking that to go through every SINGLE day they have in Vienna might get a little tedious. So, I'm thinking one or two more chapters after this one before they go back to Princeton and have to deal with real life… **

* * *

House awoke in the middle of the night, once more concerned by the fact that Cameron had left his bed. Though last night he'd been able to write it off, now he was going to have to think about it. It occurred to him that she wanted to give him space; that she worried that he would feel overwhelmed if they spent too much time together. In a way, that made sense. She'd been pretty good about giving him time to himself every day, which did actually help. House was not a person who could stand to be with someone for twenty-four hours straight, regardless of how much he did or did not like that person. On the other hand, at night it was perfectly acceptable to want to be with someone else. He missed the warmth of her body, and couldn't help but smile when he thought about the way she cuddled up to him.

Resolved, House threw the sheets off, and searched for his boxers. Once they were found, he threw open the door to his bedroom, and he limped across the living room. Without preamble, he threw open the door to her bedroom. It slammed against the wall, which quickly woke up Cameron. She sat straight up in bed and rubbed her eyes.

"Greg? Wha-what are you doing?"

"I was cold," he offered, pulling back the covers and forcing her to scoot over. "And you left," he accused.

"'M sorry," she mumbled, placing her head on his chest as he lifted his arm. After a moment, she wrapped her arm around his bare torso.

"I'll think about forgiving you later." She mumbled something else, but he couldn't make it out. For a moment he watched her, absently stroking her hair. In a few minutes, both were asleep once more.

* * *

Cameron wasn't sure what to expect when she woke up and realized that House wasn't there. It was only nine, which was way too early for him to wake up. Unless, of course, he was in pain.

"Greg?" she called out. When she heard a grunt from the living room, she opened the door of her bedroom, and peeked out. Sure enough, House was lying on the couch, his arm covering his face. "Are you okay?"

"I'm fine." Cameron couldn't help but smile at such a stubborn statement. The edge to his voice told her that he was very obviously _not_ okay. So, instead of taking him at his word, Cameron walked to the couch.

"Greg." When he didn't respond to her voice, she let her knee graze his bad leg.

"Fuck, Cameron! Fuck! Just hand me my damn Vicodin." He glared at her as she passed him his pill bottle, but she only smirked in response.

"Come on, I'll run you a hot bath."

"Are you going to_join_ me in said bath? You know, I had no idea you were wearing such naughty sleepwear last night." Cameron looked down at her black silk, admittedly short, nightgown and smiled. Only Greg House could be lying in couch in unbelievable pain and still find the energy to make a sexual comment.

"I'll think about it," she teased, heading back into her bedroom to reach the bathroom. House wasn't going to admit how relieved he felt when he heard the water start to run. Even the sound of the running water let him relax slightly—he closed his eyes and took a few deep breaths. When Cameron lightly placed her hand against his shoulder, he felt as if he might actually make it to the bathroom without collapsing.

Cameron wasn't sure if she should offer to help him walk—he'd somehow retrieved his cane from his room, so she didn't want to assume that he wouldn't be _able _to make it to the bathroom. But she couldn't help the worry that she felt when he took slow, halting steps towards her room. When he faltered, she rushed up to him, and put her arms around his waist. House looked down at her, his face expressing only pain, but his eyes showing her just a hint of resentment.

"Greg, please, just let me help." She wasn't pleading with him; she was just asking. After a curt nod, they both made their way slowly to the bathroom. Cameron was so concentrated on her task that she missed the looks House shot her way.

He wasn't sure what to make of her. She didn't seem to pity him, which was good. Sometimes he knew that Stacy pitied him, and that always put him in a bad mood. If he needed pity, he'd… well, he'd ask for it. Instead, her grip was firm, and her face was determined. All he could figure out was that she was intent on helping him relieve his pain. Finally she realized that he was watching her. She looked up at him and smiled, but this time it was a smile that he'd never seen before. It was… intimate. It was something just for him. That made him smile in return.

"Ready?" she whispered when they finally made it to the bathroom. He had to lean on her as she helped him to take off his boxers. Cameron smirked when she saw the heat in his eyes, and she felt herself blush. "Get in the tub, Greg."

"Didn't you say you'd join me?" He raised an eyebrow.

"I said I'd _think_ about joining you. First, though, you get in." She helped him into the steaming hot water, and smiled as he let out a sigh of relief. "It's not too hot?"

"No, it's perfect." He leaned back and closed his eyes. Cameron sat on the floor next to the tub, and dipped her fingertips into the water. She swished the water back and forth a bit as House continued to relax. "It'd be even more perfect, though, if you'd just get in here with me. It's certainly a big enough tub." This time, she just ignored his request, and continued to play with the water.

"Does this happen often?" Cameron asked, lowering her voice. When House didn't say anything right away, she assumed he wasn't going to answer.

"It depends. Sometimes it happens once a month, sometimes once every two months, or sometimes once a week."

"What do you usually do?"

"Take Vicodin, take a bath…" he trailed off, shrugging. "Sometimes walking helps. But you know what helps get rid of pain? Endorphins. Do you know what gives you endorphins?"

"Chocolate?" House opened his eyes, and turned to look at Cameron, who was resting her chin on the rim of the tub. She gave him that special smile once more. He narrowed his eyes and shook his head disapprovingly. Her laugh echoed around the room. "How about a massage?"

"That's a start," he grumbled. Cameron pondered the logistics of this. It seemed that the best idea would be to sit on the rim of the tub, but put her feet on either side of his body. It would be uncomfortable no matter how she managed it, but this seemed to be the best idea. She stood up and slowly put her feet in still scalding water. House watched her with interest as she turned towards him.

"Do _not_ get any funny ideas, all right?" House nodded dutifully, though Cameron knew that she would have to be on the lookout. She sat on the rim of the tub, and began to massage House's aching thigh. Though she couldn't admit that she was an expert, she soon figured out what House needed. Occasionally he would give her some direction, but on the whole, she worked in silence. After a while, she looked up and noticed that House's gaze was firmly planted on her chest. She paused, and looked down, quickly realizing what had caught his attention. The collar of her nightgown revealed, well, a lot. Cameron smirked.

"Hey, keep working." Then, to her great surprise, House splashed her. Sputtering, Cameron tried to wipe the water from her face. Then she looked down at her nightgown and rolled her eyes. When she noticed the way that the wet silk clung to her breasts, she knew that House had probably been planning that for a while.

"What, are you fifteen?"

"Maybe," he allowed, grabbing her wrists and pulling her into the tub. She squealed as her lower body was completely submerged under water.

"Oh, Greg!" she whined. House, on the other hand, was inordinately pleased with himself. He raised a wet hand to her cheek, and drew her closer to him. Resigned to her soaked fate, Cameron sighed and placed her hands on either side of his shoulders.

"See? This is much better, I think," House said, taking his other arm out of the water, and wrapping it around her waist. He drew her closer to him, pressing her torso against his. Despite her original annoyance, Cameron couldn't help but smile.

"Maybe." For a moment, both hesitated, staring into the other's eyes. Then Cameron took the lead and lightly pressed her lips against his. House quickly deepened the kiss as his tongue ran along her lower lip, demanding entrance. It was not a clean, movie kiss, but rather a messy, desperate one. Their teeth clashed together, causing House to grunt softly. The limited range of motion in the tub frustrated him as he bumped his elbow against the side for the third time. He was reaching for the hem of her nightgown in an effort to remove it, but it was clinging stubbornly to her thighs, denying him what he wanted. Growling, House raised a wet hand and roughly grabbed Cameron's breast. She moaned into his mouth, raking her fingernails down his arms.

House's hands wandered over her body, feeling her through the wet silk. He cupped her bottom, enjoying the small whimpering noise she made when he did so. She ground her pelvis against him, and the silk seemed to flutter in the water before finally settling and covering his erection.

"Oh, God, Allison," he hissed. The sound of her first name on his lips seemed to excite her, and she quickly lifted her hips and guided him to her entrance. They both moaned as she slid down his length, both enjoying the feeling of being joined together.

Slowly Cameron began to move on top of him, and as she did, the water from the tub began to slosh over the sides. As their movements became more frenzied, they created more and more waves. Being in the water allowed House to move a bit more easily than he would normally, and he thrust roughly into her, raising his hips to meet her. The water almost continually splashed violently against Cameron's back, soaking her hair and the back of her nightgown. When House could feel her inner muscles begin to tighten around him, he reached for her breast.

"Allison, come for me," he urged. She began to gasp, and House increased his pace. "Allison!" he yelled. They both came hard as she dug her nails into his shoulders and moaned his name.

"Feel better?" she whispered, placing her head against his chest. House looked down at her, intrigued by the way her hair moved in the water.

"Yeah. I told you my idea was better…" He laughed as she splashed him.

* * *

House was in a considerably good mood an hour later, after they'd finally managed to take showers and get dressed. Well, _he_ was dressed; Cameron was still primping. He was humming and pretending that the coffee table in the living room was a piano. 

"I didn't realize you played piano," she said, finally dressed. House inspected her from head to toe, thoroughly enjoying the flirty sundress she was wearing.

"I do," he acknowledged. She opened her mouth to say something, but then they heard a knock on their door. Both House and Cameron raised their eyebrows, unsure of what to do. When whoever it was knocked again, Cameron walked to the door and opened it.

"Chase! Foreman! What's up?"

"Hey, we were wondering if you were around and wanted to get some lunch." House heard Chase's voice from the living room.

"It's lunchtime already?" Cameron exclaimed, checking her watch. Indeed, it was just past noon. She wondered where the time had gone. Surely, they hadn't spent _that _much time in the tub… Well, there was also…

"Yeah, so are you guys game?"

"No!" House called out from the living room. "We have plans!" When both Foreman and Chase looked to Cameron for explanation, she shrugged. House appeared behind her, still humming to himself. "We're free for dinner, though. How would you like to try a heuriger?"

"A what?" Foreman asked. Chase knew what he was talking about, though.

"What time?"

"Seven-thirty?"

"Sounds good. Where do you want to meet?" House thought about that for a moment.

"How about we start out in the Heiligenstadt U-Bahn station?"

"See you there, then." With that, Chase ushered Foreman out of the doorway, and a very confused Cameron shut the door behind them.

"What's going on?" Cameron asked. House smiled, and pressed her up against the door. He kissed her neck, lightly placing a hand on her waist. "Greg? What are we doing today?"

"Today is Beethoven day!" he announced, releasing her and stepping back. "We're going to have a day of everything Beethoven."

"Okay, why Beethoven?"

"You asked me who my favorite composer was. The answer, in case you have yet to figure it out, is Beethoven. So get your purse, or whatever other girly things you need, and we're going to head out." Cameron smiled, and kissed him.

"Be right back."

* * *

The frustrating thing about letting House choose what to do was not being told where you were going. They were currently sitting in a tram car, watching the city go by, but it was Cameron who watched most intently, desperately trying to figure out their direction. The city began to look less and less like it did in the First District. It was only once it seemed that they were in a completely different place, though Cameron assumed they were actually still in Vienna, that they got off.

"Okay, House, seriously tell me where we are."

"We're at the Central Cemetery."

"And this has to with Beethoven how?"

"He's _here_."

"Oh." Cameron looked at the gates in front of them, thinking for a moment. Then she looked to her right and saw flower stands. Without hesitation, she walked up to one of the women selling flowers, and awkwardly asked her in English to pick out two roses. House stared at her as she returned, holding out a pink rose.

"What is this?" he asked, staring at the rose as if it were some alien object.

"It's a rose. You know, for Beethoven."

"Oh, God, Cameron. He is dead, you know. He's not going to know whether or not we left him roses." But House held onto his rose all the same. Cameron smiled, but made no reply. Together they walked into the cemetery. House had been here years ago, back when he'd been a poor student backpacking throughout Europe. If he remembered correctly, it shouldn't be too hard to find the musicians. Thankfully, a handful of tourists were milling about, armed with cameras. They might as well have been waving big red flags and screaming, "Famous people buried here!"

"There he is," Cameron said, pointing towards a grave. House nodded, and followed her, noting all of the other big names in the near vicinity. Schubert and Brahms in particular stuck out. He smiled when he watched Cameron reverently place her rose in front of Beethoven's grave. When she looked at him expectantly, House rolled his eyes, and tossed his rose. "Should we say something?" Cameron asked. House covered his face with his hand.

"Like what, Cameron? He's dead."

"Well, he's your favorite composer. Tell me something about him. How did he die?"

"Liver cirrhosis, probably." She was staring at the grave with a bit of wonderment, and House stepped next to her. "He wasn't necessarily an alcoholic, but he did drink a fair amount, as many people did in those days. His father, though, he was an alcoholic, and may have been an abusive one at that. His mother died of tuberculosis when he was young."

"Did Beethoven ever marry?" Almost without thinking, Cameron reached for House's hand and squeezed it lightly. She frowned as she looked to either of the side of the grave, noting that there was no one directly next to him.

"Nope. No wife, no kids. It's not that he didn't want them, but it just never worked out. Beethoven was… a difficult man." House smiled bitterly, staring at the grave in front of him. Cameron squeezed his hand once more. "He was a genius, though, and through his music he'll live forever."

"Maybe he just never met the right woman," Cameron suggested. "Or maybe he _did_ and they both just let things get in the way."

"Or maybe he was just meant to die alone. Maybe he would never have accomplished everything he did if he had been married."

"Or maybe he would have accomplished more." There was a pause. "Beethoven was deaf, wasn't he? That must have been difficult for such a musician, right? He'd probably have to worry that people wouldn't take him seriously as a composer if they thought that he was deficient in some way. Who would want to listen to music written by someone who couldn't hear, right?"

"But then you listen to it, and you realize…" House trailed off as he shot Cameron a suspicious look. "You realize that nothing could have held him back, except Beethoven himself."

"If he had let his doubts and insecurities get the best of him, imagine what the world would have been like. But he probably hid behind his irascible exterior." Cameron elaborated, smiling.

"Do you even know any of Beethoven's pieces?" House asked, turning towards her.

"Not really, no," she confessed.

"And yet you pretend to know him so well," he accused. Cameron shrugged and stepped closer to him.

"It just sounds like I've met a few people like him before." She lightly placed a hand against his chest.

"Yeah, I'm sure," he shot back, covering her hand with his own. Smiling, Cameron took one step closer to him, so that their bodies were less than an inch apart.

"You never know…"

* * *

Seven-thirty came quicker than they realized. After the cemetery, they'd gone across the city (again) all the way to Heiligenstadt, where they visited a few more Beethoven spots, including the apartments where he'd written the famous Heiligenstadt Testament. Of course, about two hours ago, Cameron had had no idea what that was, but House had explained it well enough: "He wanted to kill himself, moaned about it, but then decided not to because of his Art." Turns out that that wasn't _too _far off, but it was much more touching to read Beethoven's document. 

They'd also walked around the suburb, enjoying the trees and paths. House had told her more about Beethoven's life—clearly he'd read a book or two—and she'd listened attentively. Honestly, now she was curious to listen to some of Beethoven's music. Maybe when they got back to Princeton… Cameron frowned, thinking about having to leave Vienna. She wasn't even close to ready for that, but she knew that it would come quicker than she thought. Because they were waiting for Foreman and Chase in the U-Bahn station, Cameron didn't wrap her arms around House like she wanted to.

House, perhaps sensing her frustration, looked down at her. After a quick look around the station, he leaned forward and planted a quick kiss on her forehead. His lips lingered there for a moment before he stood up straight once more. Cameron smiled at him—her special smile just for him—and was still smiling at him when Chase and Foreman walked up to them.

"Hey guys," Chase greeted. "How was your day?"

"Great," Cameron replied, still looking at House. "Great."


	22. The Return

Disclaimer: Don't own House. (And right now I would be slightly ashamed if I did. Stupid season 4…)

**A/N: Sorry it's been so long between updates. This is the end of Vienna, and the beginning of a new life in Princeton. It's mostly a bunch of small scenes. Drama is upped again in the next chapter, which won't take three months to write. Hope you all are still reading and enjoying. Let me know what you think. **

* * *

The rest of the week passed too quickly. It seemed to House and Cameron that they'd discovered every nook and cranny the city had to offer. They'd eaten at all sorts of different restaurants, and discussed the merits of Klimt and Schiele; they'd seen _La Traviata_ (Cameron's favorite), _Madama Butterfly_, _Lohengrin_, and _Manon._Secretly, they both enjoyed waiting in line for standing room tickets, because it gave them a chance not only to relax, but also to spend some time getting to know each other a little better:

"Okay, next question: Angelina Jolie or Brad Pitt?" House asked. He was sitting on the floor, leaning against the wall. Cameron laughed at his question, and shook her head.

"Angelina."

"Oh _yes_. Right answer."

"My turn! Okay. Hmm. Virginia Woolf or Jane Austen?" Cameron tapped her chin thoughtfully, desperately avoiding House's gaze.

"Cameron, that is not a question that I will ever answer, no matter how much sex we are having."

"I mean, if the answer is Jane Austen, it's okay. I won't judge you or anything. That Mr. Darcy really is a fox." She turned to look at House, her face alight with mischief.

"No. Stop right there. Do not pass 'Go;' do not collect two-hundred dollars."

"But, I…"

"No."

"Don't…"

"No!"

Cameron opened her mouth once more and House leaned forward and kissed her. Startled by his impulsive action, he looked around quickly to see if anyone had caught him.

"Virginia Woolf," he admitted.

* * *

When Saturday rolled around, Cameron couldn't ignore the impending sense of dread she felt. It had been slowly building all week, but the only outward clue had been the increasing frenzy (and frequency) with which the pair made love. Though House had somewhat tacitly agreed to continuing their relationship back in Princeton, the two would also have to deal with their respective soon-to-be-ex-spouses. Though Cameron was completely over Will, she couldn't help but worry that House wasn't quite over Stacy, even if she had absolutely no evidence to support that particular paranoia. Laughing at her self, Cameron placed a hand over her eyes and shook her head.

As dawn approached on Saturday morning, she sat up in bed, the covers drawn around her body. House was sleeping on his stomach, facing away from her, and she couldn't resist the desire to lightly touch his naked back. He stirred slightly, but did not wake up. Cameron sighed loudly as her thoughts turned to their final day in Vienna.

House had promised Foreman they would show up at the final banquet later that night, and even if he had no intention of honoring that promise, Cameron did. Foreman and Chase had stayed out of Cameron and House's way all week, and Cameron had to admit that she appreciated that. She knew that neither of the boys was dense enough not to realize what had been going on, and the fact that they hadn't pulled the big brother act and tried to beat up House or condescend to her was, in fact, somewhat amazing. That hadn't stopped Foreman, however, from throwing House a few glares here and there whenever they met up for random meals.

What would happen back in Princeton? Would Foreman and Chase stay quiet about the whole thing? Would they let it slip to a nurse, who would let it slip to a lab technician, who would let it slip to, well, everyone else? Would Cuddy have to transfer Cameron to another department? Would House grow tired of her? Would… Cameron shook her head. There was nothing she could do now but enjoy the last day in Vienna. Monday she would deal with any and all possibilities, but right now? Right now all she had to worry about was what she would wear tonight.

But she still couldn't bring herself to lie down and go back to sleep. For some reason, all she could think about was the fact that she still had to find an apartment in Princeton and move the last of her stuff out of her and Will's old place. Her mother's old china set was still hiding in the back of a closet somewhere, and her grandfather's pocket watch was lying in her jewelry box. Even the thought of seeing Will, however, made her stomach turn. All she wanted to do was close that particular chapter of her life.

"Allison?" came House's sleepy voice. "Unclench. Please. I can't sleep with all the clenching." Even now he rarely called her by her first name—usually he did so only during, well, certain activities—but every time he did, she couldn't help but smile.

"Sorry," she whispered, running her hand over his back once more. He grumbled a bit and turned to face her.

"What?"

"What do you mean, 'What?'"

"You're worried about something, and I'm obviously not going to get any sleep until you stop worrying."

"I was just thinking about…" she trailed off, looking out the window and frowning. House, still sleepy enough not to care about his actions, threw his arm around her waist and pulled her closer to him. Cameron smiled softly and relaxed enough to lie down. House buried his face into her shoulder and grunted.

"Thinking about what?"

"Well, I was thinking about everything I have to do in Princeton. I still need to find an apartment, and move all of my stuff out of my old place. Lisa is probably going a bit crazy with me in the house."

"Especially now if she wants to get some with Wilson," House agreed, closing his eyes.

"I've just enjoyed this week so much, and I'm not looking forward to dealing with real life once more." When her voice lowered to a mere whisper, House's eyes opened once more, but he only grunted in response. Cameron took that as a cue to continue. "I've enjoyed being myself, and discovering new things." She took a deep breath. "I've enjoyed being with you without all the pressure of…work." House sighed, obviously not relishing the direction of the conversation.

"Cameron, things _are_ going to be different in Princeton."

"No, I know," she interrupted.

"Things are going to be different in Princeton," he repeated, "But that doesn't automatically mean they have to be _worse_. Got it?"

"Yes," Cameron answered dutifully. "Sorry to wake you. You should go back to sleep."

"But now I'm awake!" House whined.

"So?" she teased, running her fingers through his hair. In response, House hummed and placed a soft kiss on her collarbone.

"I think you'll need to tire me out a bit."

"And, uh, how do you propose I do that?" Cameron's concentration wavered when his hand lightly cupped her bottom.

"Hmm. I have a few ideas," he replied, smirking at her response. His smirk was wiped off his face as Cameron grabbed both of his hands, and, with one clean move, managed to straddle him, holding his hands up by his head.

"I have a few ideas as well."

* * *

House was certain that he'd gone crazy. There was absolutely no reason why he should be sitting at a banquet filled with arrogant diagnosticians when he could just as easily be in his hotel room peeling that dress from Cameron's body. In fact, he'd wanted to do just that, but she had playfully smacked his wandering hands and promised he could do whatever he wanted to her later. That thought—or, rather, various thoughts—had settled in his mind and groin, and he just couldn't concentrate on making ridiculous small talk. Cameron, on the other hand, was a natural—she was surrounded by a bevy of men, all of whom were taken in by her looks, but whose eyes occasionally flashed with surprise as she undoubtedly said something intelligent or witty. House watched her from across the room, enjoying the small glimpses of her. He didn't know much about fashion, but he definitely appreciated the way the dark blue satin hugged her small curves. House was grateful that _someone_ out there took the time to make a dress that so perfectly fit a woman like Cameron.

"What are you going to do when you guys get back to Princeton?" Chase asked, setting his drink down on the table, and sitting down beside House.

"Somehow, I don't think that's any of your business," House snapped.

"Well, if you two become really awkward around each other at work, then I think it is in fact my business." Chase was unruffled by House's tone, and picked up his drink.

"We won't."

"So you're going to stay together."

"Did I say that?"

"What are you afraid of?"

"What?" House's tone changed completely as he looked at his subordinate with surprise. Chase's expression was pensive as he watched Cameron and her group of admirers.

"You'd be an idiot not to want to be with her, especially when she's so obviously head over heels for you. Cameron is intelligent, _gorgeous_," When House shot Chase a jealous glare, Chase had to hide his smile by taking a sip of his drink, "Kind, compassionate, funny, fun. I mean, the list goes on and on. So why not just admit that you're head over heels for her as well, and that when you guys get back to Princeton you'll both be thoroughly professional—well, Cameron will be, anyway—but you two will continue to date. What's so hard about that?" House hesitated for a moment.

"My private life is not for public consumption," he finally replied.

"I'm not the public," Chase reminded him. "Not only am I her friend, but I have to work with both of you."

"Why do you care if I admit it or not?"

"I don't, really," Chase answered, shrugging. "I'm just curious as to why you won't."

"As I said, my private life is not for public consumption," House growled, downing the rest of his scotch.

"Okay then," Chase said, standing up. "I'll see you later, House." House could only watch him go with complete confusion.

Cameron was already sick of the banquet. It'd been two hours of non-stop chatting with men who were more interested in getting into her pants than listening to her opinions on informed consent. When she spotted Chase and Foreman standing at the outskirts of the group surrounding her, she excused herself and went to talk to them.

"Please, guys, save me. Pretend you're talking to me for at least a few minutes." Chase and Foreman grinned at her.

"I think I can do better than that," Chase replied. "I think I can even get you out of here."

"Really?" Cameron smiled. "I had no idea you were in possession of magical powers."

"Oh, I am. I have this magical ability to make House appear out of thin air. You ready?" He made a big show of stretching while Cameron and Foreman watched on with bemusement. "Here we go." Then, delicately, Chase put his arm around Cameron's shoulders, and pulled her close to his body. Cameron looked up at him, eyebrows raised. "You have to look like you're having fun," he whispered, and Cameron, realizing his plan, couldn't help but laugh.

"I don't know if this'll work, Chase."

"I guarantee it."

"Twenty bucks," Foreman said, eyeing the crowd for a glimpse of House.

"Deal," Cameron and Chase replied in unison. The two looked at each other, and began to snigger. They both let out a small gasp of surprise as Cameron was tugged out of Chase's embrace.

"Didn't you say you had packing to do, Cameron? You might as well do mine while you're at it." House's voice had dropped dangerously low, and Cameron had to bite her cheek to keep from laughing at the murderous expression on his face.

"That's a great idea, House," she replied. "Why don't we return to the room?"

"Best idea you've had all night," he grumbled, practically dragging her across the dining hall. When Cameron turned around to say goodbye to Foreman and Chase, Chase winked at her. Cameron winked back.

* * *

House actually managed to keep his cool until they'd closed the door to the hotel room. Before Cameron could say a thing, he pushed her up against the door, holding her arms above her head like she'd done to him earlier that morning. The sudden rush of desire left Cameron's legs weak, and she was glad that House's body was pressed roughly against hers, holding her up. House's free hand pulled up the hem of her dress, and he touched the smooth skin of her inner thighs.

Crying out with frustration, Cameron unconsciously clenched her hands, burning with the desire to touch him.

"I've wanted to do this all night," he whispered, punctuating each word with a harsh kiss against her neck. When she groaned, he continued. "I was watching you, you know. I knew what those men wanted to do to you." House hiked up her dress, and spread his fingers over her stomach. Cameron had to admit that she loved this possessive, jealous House, and unconsciously spread her legs just a bit wider.

"B-but only you get to touch me," she whispered, letting her head rest against the door. House froze for a moment.

"Yes," he replied. "Only me."

"I'm yours," she insisted.

"Mine," he echoed, growling as he rubbed his beard against her neck.

"Make me yours, Greg," she urged. Cameron thrust her hips forward, grinding into his, and she groaned loudly when she felt his erection through the layers of clothes. But House grew serious, and he released her hands. Confused by the sudden change in mood, Cameron placed her hands on his cheeks and kissed him softly. "Make me yours. I'm yours, Greg." When she looked into his eyes, however, she saw a vulnerability she'd never seen before.

"Allison," he whispered, placing his forehead against hers. For a moment, Cameron was completely bewildered, unable to understand what she needed from him. But then he kissed her with such tenderness that Cameron's heart constricted. In that moment, she realized he was just as scared as she was about what the future held for both of them. He was just as worried that she would leave him. The thought made Cameron sigh. A week—no matter how amazing—wasn't enough to build up the trust that either of them needed. They could get there, though; she knew that much.

Slowly, Cameron and House made their way to his bedroom, savoring each and every kiss and caress, both desperate for the night to last forever.

* * *

But all good things come to an end, and the next evening House, Cameron, Foreman, and Chase were on a plane. By the time they arrived at Newark—after a brief layover in Amsterdam during which House had an endless supply of prostitute and marijuana jokes—the group could barely stay awake. While they were waiting for their luggage, Cameron actually managed to fall asleep standing up with her head on House's chest. When the luggage finally arrived, House stole a quick glance around the room, and then placed a quick kiss on the top of her head to wake her up. Foreman and Chase dutifully pretended they didn't notice.

With all of their luggage recovered, the foursome made their way to the exit, and were all pleasantly surprised to find Wilson waiting for them. He gave them a big smile, and waved somewhat sheepishly.

"What, did you miss me?" House asked, throwing his carry on bag in Wilson's direction. Wilson caught the bag with a groan, but his smile never wavered.

"Of course I did, House. What reason could there possibly be for me to _not_ miss you? I have about sixty extra dollars from this week and I just don't know what to do with it."

"Oh, I have a few ideas." Wilson chose to ignore House, and instead turned to the rest of the group.

"I figured I'd give you guys a ride home."

"Cuddy's busy tonight?" House asked, mock seriously. Wilson shot Cameron an enigmatic glance.

"Yup. Why don't I help you with your bags, Cameron." He reached for the biggest one. "What the Hell is in here?"

"Oh, a few things I picked up here and there," she replied, yawning. As Wilson, Foreman, and Chase started to walk towards the exit, House and Cameron hung back a bit, standing close enough so that their hands brushed. Smiling sadly at each other, they followed the group and stepped outside, breathing in the Jersey air. Cameron made a face and turned to House.

"Welcome back to Jersey."

* * *

After Wilson had dropped off Foreman and Chase, he made his way to Cuddy's to drop off Cameron. When they arrived at the house, however, and saw that the lights were on, both House and Wilson insisted, for completely different reasons, on helping Cameron get her luggage inside.

Cuddy met them at the door, carefully watching the interaction between House and Cameron. Within two seconds her suspicions had been confirmed, and surprisingly that wasn't Cameron's fault. She was steadily avoiding eye contact with House, while House couldn't stop sneaking glances at her.

"How was Vienna?" Cuddy called out.

"I had all the strudel I could eat!" House answered.

"Is there anything more to life than that?" Cuddy responded, smiling. House raised his eyebrows suggestively, and she rolled her eyes. Cameron rolled her eyes as she passed Cuddy.

"He was like this the whole time."

"Oh, I'm sure," Cuddy responded, unable to hide her grin.

"Shut up," Cameron replied, drawing a laugh from Cuddy.

"Do you guys want some coffee?" Cuddy asked.

"I think I'm just going to pass out, if that's okay," Cameron replied, already heading up the stairs.

"That's fine," Wilson called out. House looked back and forth between Cuddy and Wilson before saying,

"So you two are bonking each other now? I mean, I'm all for it. In fact, I think it would do everyone a world of good if you got it on tonight."

"What?" Wilson exclaimed, his color rising.

"That's okay, you don't have to be embarrassed. I'll just leave you two alone." With that, House began to follow Cameron up the stairs.

"House, wait," Wilson said. House stopped, but didn't turn to look at him. "Stacy, she…"

"I don't want to hear about it," House growled.

"No, her mother is dying." That got House's attention. "She went down to North Carolina. It's not looking good." Sighing loudly, House nodded.

"I understand." He made his way up the stairs with slightly less enthusiasm, but when he flopped down on Cameron's bed without even taking off his jacket, and pulled her close to him, he felt like he was home. He would deal with everything else later.


End file.
